By Will Alone
by CatsbytheGreat
Summary: Edmund had been cursed by the White Witch during the Battle of Beruna, but the curse does not emerge until he is well out of Narnia. Now only Edmund can save himself.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, the Pevensies, or any other C.S. Lewis created characters.**

--

The Witch stabbed Edmund through his chain mail, the fractured end of the wand traveling deep into his stomach. Though Edmund didn't have much time to think about it, the first thing he felt was a terribly cold sensation, starting at the point of injury and spreading throughout his body. And then came the pain.

Of course, soon after that the White Witch was dead-Aslan Himself killed her. Edmund's siblings, Peter and Susan and Lucy, had seen it with their own eyes. And that was it.

Even so, two years into their reign as Kings and Queens of Narnia Edmund found himself in the grips of a nightmare that he would remember, no matter how much he tried to forget, for years to come.

_He was standing on the battle field, although it was surprisingly empty-not one person or creature, living or dead, was present. Edmund looked around in slight shock, feeling disconcerted. The air was oddly still, very much like the sort of calmness present before a severe storm. And it was cold-extremely, bone chillingly cold. _

_Edmund pulled his arms around himself and took deep breaths. Upon exhaling small clouds puffed up in front of him and then disappeared, showing just how cold it was. He was dressed only in his armor from the Battle of Beruna, and suddenly he had an odd feeling near his stomach-he looked down and immediately paled._

_The chain mail of his armor was broken, and blood was soaking the tunic over it (though since the tunic was red the stains weren't as terrible looking as they could have been). Underneath all this was a horrid looking puncture wound, still bleeding profusely. Edmund wanted to faint, yet he also realized that, as bad as the wound was, he felt normal. Indeed, not even the slightest discomfort came to him other than the small twinge at the sight of the injury. For some reason, Edmund found this really disturbing._

_He looked up again, and turned to the cliffs behind him, where in the Battle Aslan had appeared. "Aslan, are you here?" Edmund asked aloud. He was met with silence, but continued to stare at the top of the cliff in hopes that the Lion's golden figure would appear and explain this all and set everything right. And perhaps heal the wound. _

"_He will not come," an icy voice said suddenly, sending chills down Edmund's spine. He was much braver than when he'd first entered Narnia, but still he hesitated, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before turning around._

_He opened his eyes…._

…_And stared straight into the fathomless dark eyes of Jadis, the White Witch herself. "You're dead!" Edmund cried. The Witch smiled rather mockingly at him._

"_So it would seem," she replied simply, and the calmness of her voice made him shudder. _

"_No-no!" Edmund stuttered. "Aslan killed you. There were witnesses! This can't…this isn't real."_

_The Witch laughed, a high cold laugh. She continued to stare at Edmund for some time, with amusement in her features. Edmund, though he wanted very much to run, forced himself to match her stare with his own, and to stand straight and not shake or show fear. He learned this from Peter. Enemies only fed on fear, and Edmund did not want to give the Witch anything to latch onto. "Aslan killed my physical being, but what of my spirit?" the Witch challenged. "And, what of my _magic_?"_

_Despite himself, Edmund's jaw dropped. "What!" he cried, and in that moment felt terribly let down and angry, though at what he wasn't exactly sure. But that any part of the Witch could have survived-impossible!_

"_Well, Aslan will lock away my spirit in time, but what he does not know is that my Magic remains," the Witch said with great satisfaction as she noticed the effect it was having on Edmund. "When I stabbed you I put a curse on you-the Deep Magic may have been satisfied with Aslan's sacrifice, but I have not been, and I should still like to have you suffer, and have you die for your treachery. And you shall, _properly_ this time. For a curse never lifts unless it is countered by Deep Magic, or else has fulfilled its purpose. As I am sure this one will, in your death. Unexpectedly, of course, when you have no one to help you."_

_Edmund gaped at her, and was shaking as well now, even though he had tried not to. There was a long silence until the Witch laughed a long, cold laugh that brought up such hatred in Edmund, and brought him to his senses. "Aslan knows all," he declared confidently, feeling warmth flood his body as he said this. "He will be the Deep Magic that conquers your curse, and you shall not be satisfied. He is always there to help those He loves."_

_The Witch gave a cruel smile, as though she knew something Edmund did not, and this made him very afraid. "Keep telling yourself that, Edmund, and you will see just how wrong you are." Two things happened at once-the Witch disappeared, and a pain like Edmund had never known before flooded his body and he screamed and screamed hoping someone would come. He was wrong in hoping-no one came._

Edmund sat up in a tangle of blankets. Sweat poured down his forehead and he was breathing heavily. There was no pain, but he was cold, and the Witch's parting words were still with him. Before he had time to think, however, Peter was in the room with Lucy and Susan on his heels.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked sharply, looking around the room.

This, and the concerned looks of his sisters, made Edmund feel very embarrassed. "It was a nightmare," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, I know those are dreadful," Lucy said, sitting down next to him. She didn't look tired in the least, and was actually in high spirits (for someone who had been awoken at two in the morning), which was comforting. "What was it about?"

Edmund saw his siblings' expectant looks and appreciated their concern, but realized that he didn't want them to know about the dream. Whether it was true or not, there was nothing they could do-it seemed the matter fell to Aslan and Edmund himself. So he replied hesitantly, "I-I don't remember, exactly…it had to do with the Battle of Beruna." That was partially true, anyway.

Peter looked at his younger brother long and hard before nodding, and all three offered to spend the night with Edmund. Edmund decided to let them-he needed the company, and the warmth. As they all fell asleep huddled against each other, despite his siblings' presence, the Witch's words again floated into his head.

_You will see just how wrong you are._


	2. Frost

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies or Narnia. They are property of C.S. Lewis. Enjoy!**

Susan, Edmund, and Lucy stood waiting for the train to arrive to take them to school. Narnia was a memory now-for awhile they had reigned as monarchs and then, just as suddenly as they arrived in Narnia, they were taken away. Much to Edmund's relief the curse never fell upon him, and he was quite done worrying about it when they got back to present-day England. After all, once back, they had other things to worry about, such as trying to act normal even though things were clearly different. Once more all four of them went to Narnia and back, and most recently Edmund and Lucy had gone and returned. None of the siblings were allowed to return anymore.

This in itself wasn't the worst thing, as Aslan had assured them He was in their world as well as in Narnia, and the siblings had each other-at least, until Susan started avoiding them and caring more about her friends and boyfriends (Peter refrained, with difficulty, from calling them 'suitors'). Still, Peter and Edmund and Lucy talked often about Narnia. Then Peter went off to University, and suddenly things seemed quite worse.

Which is why standing at the train station was such a miserable affair. Their parents had just left after saying goodbye, and the three stood together for a moment longer before Susan said, "I think I might find my friends."

"But will you sit with me on the second train?" Lucy asked, looking hopeful. Had Peter been here, Susan wouldn't have even left, but Peter was not.

"I'm not sure-it depends," Susan answered. Edmund opened his mouth to say something, but his older sister rushed away so fast that he couldn't even make a sound.

"She won't do it," Lucy said quietly. "Not without Peter around. I suppose I'd rather her do it on her own than by force, though…"

"It's alright," Edmund reassured her. "What would you two talk about anyway? I'll sit with you now, and perhaps you can catch up with your friends on the second train."

"Perhaps," Lucy muttered, but she didn't look as though she wanted to. Train rides to and from school had been, in the past, used as time to talk with her siblings. Now things were apparently different.

Before either of them had time to reflect further (and perhaps get angry at Susan), the train pulled into the station and Edmund and Lucy busied themselves with getting on and settled. This first train ride was the longest and took them to a mid-station, where they waited for two separate trains to take them to their separate boarding schools. The second train ride was shorter, and lucky it was, because it also was looking to be the loneliest one.

Once settled, Edmund leaned back in the seat and regarded his little sister. Lucy the Valiant, she was called. She had proved herself in Narnia many times as being Valiant, and he had no doubt she could summon that same courage here in England. At least, he hoped she would.

"Edmund, are you afraid of going to school without Peter?" Lucy asked suddenly, and it was such an odd question that Edmund frowned.

"Ah…why should I be?" he asked, because he'd never really thought about it before.

"Well, you two have been in school together for the longest," Lucy explained. "We've all been together in some way until now, come to think of it, and even if it doesn't seem like it I still have Susan. But Peter is far away."

"I never thought about until now," Edmund confessed, "but I don't think I'm afraid. I thought you might be, what with Susan having changed. I guess not, though." He offered her a small smile. "I shouldn't have thought it-you _are_ the Valiant one, after all."

Lucy grinned back. "Thanks, but I might be a bit scared," she said. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to talk to her about everything I want to. I hate to admit it, but Narnia comes up a lot."

Edmund laughed. "What did she expect? It affected us all so much. We can't just forget it. If it helps, I'll write you often and you can write back. And if you ever need to talk to me, I'll be there. All you have to do is ask."

"I trust you," Lucy said, her smile widening. "After all, you were so wonderful on the _Dawn Treader_, although your patience was thin at times."

"I was dealing with _Eustace_!" Edmund laughed. Then the two lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Edmund turned to the window and watched the countryside pass swiftly through the glass. The rolling green hills and occasional forests so sparsely populated made him think…

"Doesn't this remind you of Narnia?" Lucy asked a little breathlessly, breaking the silence.

"It does," Edmund answered, knowing exactly what Lucy meant.

"Sometimes when I'm alone or lonely, I think of the nature in a Narnian way," Lucy said. "Or, to be more specific, I imagine I'm in Narnia itself. It makes me feel better. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my thoughts I expect the trees to start talking, or a faun to appear out of nowhere. Have you ever felt that way?"

"I've felt reminded of Narnia," Edmund said, "but not as intensely as you've felt it. It does help clear one's head, though."

"Meditating, almost," Lucy said. "I do suspect we'll both need a lot of head-clearing now. I don't know about you, but I miss Peter and Susan."

Edmund felt sad quite suddenly, and his voice was hoarse when he replied, "I miss them too." It was the first time either of them had acknowledged they felt Susan was actually _gone_, but when said out loud they realized it was true. She was gone, though not in the same way as Peter. For some reason, that was worse.

The general feelings between the two were rather melancholy when the train pulled into the mid-station.

"Want me to go get Susan for you?" Edmund asked Lucy tentatively as they sat on a bench, waiting for the first train-Lucy and Susan's-to come.

Lucy shook her head, watching Susan converse a short distance away with her friends. "She would only get cross with you."

Edmund sighed and also looked at his older sister. "Are you sure? I think I can knock some sense into her. I mean, she's not _that _far gone." An uncertain pause met his words. "Is she?" His last question was almost a whisper.

Lucy gave him a solemn look that startled him-Lucy was almost never really solemn. She nodded once, and before he could process this, the train pulled into the station and she stood.

Edmund stood as well and stepped towards her. He gave her a tight hug. "It'll get better," he murmured in her ear, though truth be told, he didn't exactly believe this himself. Lucy merely nodded and muttered, "Good bye, I love you."

"Love you too," Edmund said, and Lucy boarded the train. He sat down on the bench again, realized he hadn't said goodbye to Susan, and jumped up. But the doors to the train closed and Susan had already boarded. By the time Edmund forced himself back onto the bench the train was long gone.

Suddenly, Edmund felt the loneliest he'd ever felt before, barring the times he had been in the White Witch's custody. Peter was far away, and Susan was gone in her own right. Lucy's words popped into his head-he would be completely alone at school. This did nothing to improve his mood, and he wished for a distraction from his thoughts as he waited.

A light, cool breeze traveled through the station, but to Edmund it felt harsh and ice-cold. He shivered, the cold seeming to penetrate his very bones, and even after the breeze stopped the cold didn't go away. Wrapping his arms around his body, Edmund willed himself not to think of _her_, or Susan, or Peter even.

As the train arrived and Edmund boarded, he was still shivering. The cold that penetrated his body and the increased feelings of loneliness stayed with him throughout the whole ride.


	3. Nightmare

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies or the White Witch. All belong to C.S. Lewis. Anyone unfamiliar is mine (such as Edmund's room mate).**

* * *

Edmund found that he was extremely lonely at school, though he didn't know why. He and Peter hadn't spent every moment together while at school-after all, they were three years apart and never had the same classes. Yet the feeling of loneliness stayed with him, and he could only wonder whether his other siblings felt the same.

He was grateful that this was the only thing he had to worry about when, after having completed much homework, he fell asleep in his bed. His room mate, a quiet boy named Christopher, was already soundly sleeping. Everyone had a lot of work in the first weeks of school. It seemed the teachers were trying to drill what they may have forgotten firmly into their heads, and then some.

_Edmund awoke in an unfamiliar setting, though once he glanced around he realized it was a dorm. Not a dorm at his boarding school-he would have recognized it. Rather, he guessed it was either the dorm at his sisters' school or Peter's school. The long hallway stretched ahead of him, and it didn't occur to Edmund _why_ he was there. Really, he was only preoccupied with figuring out where to go, because he felt like he needed to be somewhere. _

_Quietly, Edmund tried the doors on either side of him-they were locked. He continued down one end of the hallway, turning doorknobs as he went. Then a small clicking sound caused him to turn around. Down at the other end of the hall, a tall figure obscured by darkness had opened a door and was disappearing through it. Edmund immediately set off at a run. The door clicked shut. He raced as fast as he could, eyes on the door as he tried to remember exactly which one it was. They all looked so alike. _

_Finally, Edmund came to a stop and breathing heavily, he turned the knob. Slowly, he pushed the door open (he was glad it did open) and was met with silence and darkness. As he pushed further more of the room revealed itself-a bed with a stranger in it and then another bed by a window. The occupant was completely covered by blankets except for his hair, which shown golden in the moonlight. "Peter," Edmund breathed. _

_He had been about to call for his brother when a shadow moved into view and made Edmund's chest constrict, stealing his ability to speak. He suddenly felt cold and shaky as the figure moved to his brother's bedside. Her white dress swished softly against the floor and the sword in her hand gleamed in the moonlight. She was moving now to remove Peter's blanket, and Edmund realized what was going on. _

"_Peter!" he yelled, pushing the door completely open and running into the room. The White Witch chuckled softly as she looked up, unsurprised at Edmund's entrance, and grinned. _

"_Why hello, Son of Adam," she purred. "I'm glad you've come to watch. Unfortunately, your brother can't hear you, so you're quite useless in that respect." _

"_What are you doing here?" Edmund asked angrily. "This isn't Narnia! And you're dead!"_

"_I believe we've had this conversation before," the Witch replied. "And I'm sure even you know that traveling between worlds is possible." _

"_Why are you here?" Edmund demanded, his voice and entire body shaking. Whether it was from fear or the cold he couldn't tell. He just wanted to get to his brother. He took a step forward._

"_To see your brother, of course. And I knew you would come." She pulled the blanket off of Peter, who remained asleep but shivered. He suddenly looked so much more vulnerable, and this was disturbing. _

_Edmund took another step forward. He was at the edge of Peter's bed now. "I'm sure you want to do more than see him," he snapped, "because if that was all, you would have left by now."_

"_I'm afraid you're right," the Witch admitted. She looked thoughtful. "No, I wanted _you _to see him." A pause. "I want to see you as you watch him."_

_Edmund reached towards the bed and then stopped as a chill made its way down his back. "Watch him…do what?" _

"_Watch him die," the Witch answered, her cool voice saying it as simply as one might say 'watch him ride a bike' or some other normal activity. The sword looked even brighter now._

_Edmund reacted violently-he lunged for the sword without thinking and she swung it out of his reach. As a result he found himself on top of his brother, who remained asleep. "Ugh!" he cried, and sat up and grabbed Peter's shoulders, shaking them. "Wake up Peter, please! Please wake up!"_

_Suddenly the flat of the Witch's sword knocked into Edmund's stomach, forcing him off the bed. "Quiet! You can do naught but watch!" she snapped. _

When do I ever do as I'm told?_ Edmund thought, and he lunged at the Witch herself, grabbing her dress. She snarled and grasped his wrists, throwing him hard into the wall. The impact hurt and stunned Edmund, and so he hesitated in getting up. In that hesitation, the Witch stabbed Peter, who suddenly woke up and cried out in pain._

"_No!" Edmund yelled, realizing what had happened. He jumped up in time to see his brother staring, horrified and defenseless, up at the Witch. A hand was clutching somewhere near his lower stomach, and his clothing was starting to stain with blood. The Witch laughed. "Peter, look at me!" Peter, however, had eyes for no one but the Witch, so Edmund did the next best thing and attacked the Witch from behind, hitting her hard enough so that she stumbled. _

_The Witch only laughed and caught Edmund around the chest, holding him tightly close to her. He struggled, but her grip was too strong. "The fatal blow has been dealt," she told him in his ear. "You have done nothing except hurt your brother. Now watch." _

_She forced Edmund to face the bed, where Peter was moaning in pain. "Oh, Aslan," he muttered, breathing heavily. The blood was now soaking the bed sheets in addition to his shirt, and Edmund cried out. Peter didn't hear, but continued to moan, and the sounds broke Edmund's heart. He felt so helpless. This went on for quite some time, and due to the Witch's grip he could not look away no matter how much he wanted to. It seemed like years before Peter slumped forward and stopped breathing. _

"_It has begun," the Witch said triumphantly. _

_Edmund fell forward as well against the side of the bed. He gasped, turned around, and found that the White Witch had vanished. He then turned to Peter and pulled himself up on the bed, his chest so tight he could barely breathe. "Peter, I should have stopped her. I-I tried…and…" his voice trailed off, though his thoughts finished with, _that wasn't good enough. _Edmund's hands grasped Peter's and he leaned into his brother and it hit him-Peter was gone, _dead_, and it was his fault. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and then he began to sob hard, gripping Peter's hands even harder. He closed his eyes and wished it could all go away…_

Uncontrolled sobbing filled the room, and Edmund only just became aware that it was coming from him when he opened his eyes. The familiar room was a small comfort as he remembered what he had just seen. He shuddered and told himself it was a dream, but that didn't stop his sobs.

"Edmund, is that you?" a tired voice asked out of the darkness, and it was only this that stopped Edmund from sobbing some more. His breath caught and he turned to find his room mate, Christopher, peering tiredly at him.

"Y-yes," Edmund answered, his voice hoarse from crying so much. He moved to wipe the tears off his cheeks.

Christopher's face took on a look of both concern and confusion. "Are you okay? You were crying."

Edmund gave a watery laugh. "I suppose I was," he said quietly. "I'm really alright now. You can go back to sleep."

Christopher continued to look at him searchingly, and it reminded Edmund rather painfully of how Peter did the same thing. "If you need to talk, I'll listen," he said, and Edmund did not doubt it.

"You wouldn't understand," Edmund told him, and when Christopher raised his eyebrows he added, "No, really. It was a nightmare-that's all. And you wouldn't understand it."

"And you couldn't make me understand?" Christopher asked.

Edmund was taken aback by this question, which he hadn't expected from his normally quiet room mate. _Perhaps this is what happens when I wake him up in the middle of the night_, he thought. Out loud he said, "Only if you wanted to, but honestly I don't feel very much like making people understand tonight." This was true, as Edmund had begun to feel very drained.

Christopher gave a small nod and lay back down. Edmund took a second, then pulled the covers over himself and faced the window. Outside it was dark and he could see nothing. He wondered if Peter was awake right now…if he was _alive_.

Edmund shivered and pushed the thought from his head-it was a _dream_. The room was unbearably cold and he pulled the blanket tighter around him and drew in his limbs for heat. All of this was in vain, as Edmund still felt despairingly cold, but he figured he ought to get used to it-fall was upon them and winter was coming soon. He wondered at how the school could get by with so little heat.

Then Edmund wondered whether it was the school's heating system at all as he continued to shiver. The idea nagged at him as his eyes closed and he relaxed. After all, what did the Witch mean when she said "It has begun?" _What_ _has begun?_

"It was a _dream_!" Edmund murmured forcefully to himself one last time before completely falling asleep.


	4. Letters

**Disclaimer: As before, I do not own Narnia, its inhabitants, or the Pevensies.**

* * *

Edmund was sitting on his bed, a letter from Lucy in his hands. He had written her a letter a few weeks ago, nearer to the start of school, asking her if everything was alright, particularly with Susan. Lucy hadn't replied until just now (it was mid-October) and Edmund was grateful. It gave him things to think about other than his own life.

Shivering slightly, as it was cold (he felt cold quite often now and didn't know why), Edmund opened the letter with perhaps more enthusiasm than was necessary and smoothed it out to read. Lucy, of course, had replied in earnest.

_Dear Edmund,_

_I'm glad you're happy at school, even though Peter's not there. I got a letter from Peter, actually, and you must have too because he said he'd written to all of us. Anyway, it's so good to hear from you. I'm sorry I haven't responded sooner, but school work has been piling up and I always wait to do it until the last minute…I know I shouldn't but I can't help it! Sometimes it's so tempting to just take a walk outside and think about…well, you know. And that's much better than school work. _

_I'm sure you want me to get on with it and tell you about Susan. I hate to say it, but I have to be honest with you-she's been ignoring me. I wanted to sit with her for lunch and dinner the first few days of school. We've always done it before. Not all the time, but perhaps every few days. When I asked she just said, "Maybe another time. I have things to discuss with my friends…you wouldn't understand." Why, I almost reminded her right then and there that I'd grown up before and there are few things I don't understand. I suppose they were talking about boys. As if I don't know about boys-she wasn't the only one whose hand was sought for marriage! _

_Really, she's being quite silly. Every time I try to talk to her she just tells me she's busy. I've invited her on walks and she always tells me to go do my school work. Yet she doesn't do her school work-if she did, she'd be _good_ at it! Sorry-that wasn't nice. I just can't stand being told what to do like I'm so much younger than her. I'm not-she knows what I can do, she's just chosen to forget. It hurts and I wish things could be as they were before Susan decided to try and grow up and avoid me and Narnia (I do hope no one else reads this letter-they might think this quite odd). She's just being silly. I wish she'd listen to me or you! I just want to do something…_

_I'm sorry to bother you with all this (although you did ask me). I hope your year continues to go well and I can't wait to see you for Christmas. Will you ride the train with me on the way back? You don't have to if you don't want to. I would just love it if you did, though, because I can't bear the thought of losing another family member to all this nonsense about growing up. You and I are plenty mature as it is. We don't need make-up (I hope you never do) or boyfriends and girlfriends or any of the stuff Susan wants to be that way. After all, when we grew up before none of that was important. What was important was having each other and using the best of ourselves to help others. Don't you agree?_

_I love you so much and again, I can't wait to see you. Perhaps we'll be able to straighten this whole thing out._

_Much love, _

_Lucy_

Edmund grinned rather sadly as he put the letter down. Lucy always made him smile and feel warm, but the trouble with Susan made her letter a bit sad, especially since she was so honest and open about it. His heart ached when he saw that she feared the same might happen to him. "That would never happen," Edmund said aloud. "She'll never lose me or Peter. That's one thing she can be sure of." He then set about to writing this in his letter.

When he was done, Edmund took out another piece of paper. This next letter was to Peter, who had also written recently about University and to whom Edmund had never gotten around to responding. He was overjoyed to hear from Peter though, especially after that nightmare he'd had. It had been in his head for quite some time until Peter's letter put most of his fears at ease.

Peter posed a question in his letter, '_How are you? And tell the truth, Ed…'_ Edmund knew he had to give Peter some sort of answer, but he really didn't feel like telling him the truth. Peter would only start worrying and Edmund didn't want that-he wanted Peter to be happy with his new life. So he wrote a rather poor response and told himself Peter would have to be satisfied with that.

Besides, more important than his problems were Lucy's problems. Edmund wrote that Peter ought to talk to Susan and hoped it would distract Peter from being angry at Edmund's response to his question. "After all, mine aren't really problems and Lucy's are…and Peter can help her better than he can help me," Edmund told himself. And then immediately he took it back-"Wait-I don't need help. It was a dream. And just as well, because Lucy and Susan is what needs to be focused on."

The only reason the dream continued to plague Edmund was because it had been a long time since he'd had such a nightmare-_years_, in fact. It seemed so real and the Witch's words of 'It has begun' were not lost on him. The very fact it had occurred was what disturbed him in addition to the (rather mysterious) content, and the fact that he'd been constantly cold ever since only served to remind him even more of the nightmare. He forcefully turned his thoughts back to Lucy.

After all, he reasoned, there were more important things to worry about than a false nightmare and feeling a little cold.

* * *

Soon after, Peter got his first letter from his siblings. It was from Edmund. Holding the envelope in his hand, Peter walked back to his room and sat on the bed. He missed them so much and although he enjoyed school immensely (as he had told Edmund, Lucy, and Susan in his letters to them) he still felt odd without any of his siblings around.

With some excitement, Peter opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. He then began to read it the same way one might devour a particularly good book. It read:

_Dear Peter,_

_These first few weeks of school have been nice. This year the work is harder, but then again it's supposed to get harder each year, otherwise we wouldn't be learning anything. It's not too hard, though. After all, we've already learned a lot…you know what I'm talking about._

_I'm glad to hear you like school and that you're safe and well. University seems exciting. I hope you're not lonely. You're probably too busy studying to be lonely. Is the work more interesting once you've reached that level, or is it the same boring stuff they teach here? _

_As for myself, I'm fine. The teachers seem to be giving us a lot of work and as a result I'm a little tired. Also, this letter might be more grammatically correct than most, as the lessons of my English teacher have been drilled into my head firmly as anything. I wish I could tell you more about it, but that's something I should tell you in person. _

_Also, you may want to reassure Lucy about Susan. Susan has been avoiding her, according to a letter she wrote me. Actually, I've taken care of Lucy. You should really talk to Susan because she won't listen to me…but she'll listen to you. After all, are you not the High King?_

_I miss you and hope to see you happy and well for Christmas (I think that's the next holiday we have off). _

_Love,_

_Edmund_

Peter frowned at the letter and took out a piece of paper to write his response. With Edmund, what was written wasn't necessarily the whole story. Peter learned this in Narnia when they would be separated and would have to correspond by letters. He became almost an expert at reading between the lines because Edmund, honest as he was at times, was never one to easily admit when something was wrong.

This letter was written in quite the odd way. Really, a majority of it was pointless at first glance. Peter took out a pen and began to write, _Dear Edmund, You really didn't answer my question of 'how are you?' in my last letter. 'I'm fine' is a horrible answer to such a question and you know it…._Indeed, Peter knew from experience that 'I'm fine' really meant 'I don't want to talk about it', whatever _it_ was.

He also noticed Edmund's reference to loneliness, but this was easy enough to figure out. "He's lonely-that can be easily dealt with, though," Peter muttered to himself.

There was the fact that Edmund had used the tactic of changing the subject within the letter. Twice. First when he talked about his English teacher, something which Peter thought was stupid and he vowed to call Edmund on it. The second, however, bothered Peter because it was a legitimate concern of his (and no doubt Edmund knew this and used it to his advantage). Susan _was_ avoiding them and he hated to think that Lucy had no one to talk to.

Really, the only thing Edmund gave Peter to work with was his statement of 'I miss you'. Yet something else was nagging at Peter's mind and he couldn't put his finger on it. He had time-Peter always made sure to make time to read Edmund's letters as they required this sort of heavy thinking. Lucy was easier-she wrote everything on paper that she felt and never guarded anything. Susan sometimes hid things, but this was rare and Peter didn't worry so much because Susan wasn't a write-between-the-lines sort of person anyway.

"Why are you such a pain?" Peter asked out loud, though he really didn't mean it. He just wished Edmund would tell him things straight out and not leave it up to Peter to figure it out. "Impossible!"

Peter re-read the letter much more carefully again, his own response discarded on the other end of the bed. Then it hit him-"My welfare-since when does Edmund care so much about my _welfare_?" he wondered aloud, noting how Edmund mentioned he hoped Peter was happy and healthy and_ safe_. It hadn't been a rare sentiment in Narnia, where safety was a constant concern, but it was next to unnecessary here in England. Perhaps the idea of Peter going away worried Edmund more than Peter originally thought it would…but still, why safe? What could have possibly made Edmund question his older brother's safety?

Shaking his head, Peter grabbed his paper and began writing, hoping to both reassure Edmund and get answers out of him. "Though I'll probably receive a more complicated letter for my efforts," he muttered. This was one thing that wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest. "I suppose I'll have to wait until we see each other again…"


	5. Memory

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or the Pevensies. All are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

_The water was calm and sparkled as if diamonds were floating on the surface. It was extremely tempting in the hot sun and Edmund wondered whether or not his sisters would like to go swimming. Susan enjoyed swimming and was quite good-no, amazing at it. Lucy loved to splash around. Peter would stand around trying to look dignified until Lucy got him wet-then he would join in the water fight. Edmund would usually mock Peter's attempt at staying cool and collected until he was dragged into the fight as well (usually by an insulted Peter). _

_Peter was away in Archenland meeting with King Lune. Susan was in charge and today they were lucky-none of the three remaining monarchs had anything to do. Edmund decided they should take advantage of the calm waters and with that, he left the balcony and went off to find his sisters._

_Lucy was in the garden talking to Mr. Tumnus. They had remained great friends. "Lucy!" Edmund called to her._

_She turned around. There were flowers in her hair and Mr. Tumnus was holding a longer garland of flowers, presumably for a necklace. Both were grinning widely. "Yes, Edmund?" she asked. "Please tell me you bring good news and not news of work or trouble. It's too hot to do work."_

"_It is never too hot to do work," Edmund said. Then he smiled. "Actually, I was wondering if you would accompany me to the beach for a day of swimming. The water looks wonderful, and-"_

"_Of course!" Lucy exclaimed, cutting him off. "Oh, I've been waiting for someone to ask! I've wanted ever since summer began to spend some time at the beach. After all, what is the point of having a beach if we don't use it?"_

"_No point at all," Edmund replied. "I'll have to find Susan now and hopefully she'll see reason and join us. Tumnus, would you like to join as well?"_

_Mr. Tumnus shook his head and smiled. "No thank you. I was just about to leave when Lucy asked if I would make her a flower necklace. I couldn't refuse. But I must get going…important business with the Beavers…"_

"_They've invited him to lunch," Lucy explained. "Well then, I shall see you soon Mr. Tumnus. Have fun!"_

"_Thank you and I will," Tumnus replied. "Have fun yourself." _

_Lucy turned to Edmund with something like amusement in her smile and, as soon as Tumnus left, said, "Are you aware that fauns make terrible swimmers?"_

_Edmund blushed and felt terribly embarrassed. "I do hope I haven't insulted him!"_

_Lucy laughed. "Not at all-he really was going to lunch," she assured. "Don't worry. I suppose I'll go change now and meet you at the beach?"_

_Edmund nodded and the two separated. He went into the castle to find Susan. _

_Susan was a little harder to find-she locked herself up deep within the castle's library and it took Edmund fifteen minutes to navigate the books in order to find her. He did eventually; she was browsing the historical section of books. _

"_You and Peter haven't read them all already?" he asked in a teasing tone. Susan looked up at him, surprised._

"_You should make more noise when you walk around," she told him with a smile. "You might just scare someone."_

"_They'll have to get used to being scared, then," Edmund replied. "So, dearest Sister, would you accompany Lucy and myself for a nice day on the beach?"_

_Susan seemed to think hard for a moment. "Are you sure there's no work to be done?" she asked in a worried voice._

"_None what-so-ever," Edmund said. "I've checked and checked again, and it's so rare that we do these types of things. Lucy is already getting herself changed. You look like you could use a day away from worrying. I know how you love to swim…"_

"_When you say it like that…" Susan put the book she had been examining back in its place and walked with her brother out of the library. _

_A half hour later the siblings found themselves at Cair Paravel's beach. Susan was quite a way off shore, swimming back and forth horizontal to the sand. Lucy was in the shallows looking for shells and occasionally stopping to watch her older sister with awe. Edmund watched them both as he reclined on the sand, feeling the sun warm him. He loved watching his sisters when they were so relaxed and so happy. Susan was a sight to see when she swam as she did now. She was in her element and Edmund loved it. Lucy was also interesting to watch. When she found a particularly beautiful shell she smiled one of her most radiant smiles, and this warmed Edmund more than the sun ever could. _

_Presently Lucy called to him, "Edmund, aren't you coming in the water? It's so nice!"_

"_I suppose I'll have to now," Edmund called back. He sighed and stood up as Lucy called for Susan to come closer to shore so that they may be together (Edmund and Lucy weren't nearly as good swimmers and were uncomfortable far from shore). As he walked closer the sand cooled beneath his feet and grew harder. The water that lapped up against him was cool and refreshing in the heat. He walked to where the water reached his waist (and Lucy's chest). _

_Susan swam over and Lucy told her, "You look just like a dolphin when you do that."_

"_Am I to take this as a complement?" Susan asked her with a small smile._

"_Yes," Lucy answered, peering downwards into the calm water. _

"_What are you looking for?"_

"_Shells, of course." Lucy suddenly lunged forward and was, for a few second, completely underwater. It was anything but graceful, but Lucy was triumphant when she came up, holding a rather large shell in her hands. "It's beautiful."_

_Edmund and Susan leaned in for a closer look. The shell was spiral shaped and a light pink shade and very smooth. It shone in the sunlight. Edmund nodded his approval-it was quite the catch-and Susan murmured her agreement. Lucy caressed it as she carried it to shore and lay it down carefully with the other shells. Edmund loved the tenderness with which she did this, as though the shell was alive. He smiled. _

_Lucy returned to find Edmund watching her and asked him, "What are you smiling about?" This brought him back to himself and he answered, "Oh, nothing. I was only thinking about how wonderful everything is today."_

"_Do you know…what would make things even more wonderful?" Lucy asked innocently, but Edmund noticed the mischievous glint in her eyes. _

"_What?" he asked slowly. Susan was looking at Lucy with much suspicion. _

"_If you got your head wet!" With that sentiment, she thrust her hands into the sea and sent a wave of water towards Edmund; it hit him square in the face and soaked his hair. _

"_Lucy!" he yelled and sent a wave back in retaliation. _

_Susan, meanwhile, had tried to slowly back away, but Lucy cried, "Oh, no! You shan't get away that easily!" Thus, a wave of water hit her as well, and with the last member of their party hit a full blown water fight began._

_The fight lasted quite awhile with many screeches of discomfort and splashes and cries of war. All this gave way to the even louder sound of hysterical laughter that carried the siblings back to the shoreline, where they sat down on the sand. _

_Lucy suddenly exclaimed, "Look at you, Edmund! You look like a wet dog!" Indeed, Edmund did look a bit like a wet dog. Grinning, he shook his hair and sent a spray of water in all directions._

"_You and Susan resemble wet cats," he shot back. "That is worse, I think."_

"_You thought wrong," Susan told him. They contemplated how each other looked for a few seconds. Then Edmund burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Soon all three were laughing, and Edmund never felt as joyful or relaxed as when he was sitting laughing freely with his sisters. The only thing missing was Peter. He was laughing so hard everything began to fade away except his voice…_

Edmund had a stitch in his side from laughing so hard as he sat up. He could barely breathe and the only thing that made him laugh a little less was the fact that he was the only one laughing now.

As the laughter subsided he opened his eyes and with a jolt realized he was no longer on the beach in Narnia. His sisters were gone and it was nighttime. Edmund was simply sitting in bed at school and his room mate was also awake, giving him a very odd look. He abruptly stopped laughing altogether.

Edmund didn't know what to do or say. It was an awkward situation. Christopher broke the silence by saying, "So I suppose it was a good dream you've had this time."

"It was," Edmund said with a small nod. "I'm sorry I woke you up-I didn't realize I was laughing until I was awake."

"You get quite emotional when you sleep," his room mate observed. "Really, are these normal dreams or not? You seem to get quite caught up in them."

"I wouldn't have called this a dream," Edmund explained, "but rather a memory. It really happened, at any rate. It was one of the best days of my life. I wish I didn't leave…"

"What happened?" Christopher asked.

Edmund thought of saying that he wouldn't understand, but bit his tongue. After all, Christopher seemed more open minded than most…but was he open minded enough to believe in Narnia? He already thought Edmund was odd. It was so hard keeping Narnia to themselves, and there were plenty of times when it was downright frustrating. Now, Edmund knew, was one of those times.

_Well, no one ever said it would be easy_, he thought, _but does it have to be this…hard?_

After much arguing with himself and a long pause Edmund decided to go with the partial truth. "I was remembering this time when my sisters and I were at the beach. We…were relaxing for the first time in ages and we got into this huge water fight…we were all so happy and it was extremely funny."

Christopher nodded. He still looked slightly wary, as though he knew Edmund wasn't telling the whole truth. Instead of calling him out on this, he said, "Well then, good night…again."

"'Night," Edmund called back. He shivered-why was it freezing yet again? It had been so warm in his dream…and suddenly he felt terrible homesickness for Narnia and a feeling of almost crushing loneliness as he realized how much he missed his sisters and Peter. The dream reminded him of what he could never have again and what with the tensions between him and Susan, and Lucy and Susan, a day like that was a rather cruel comparison to the present. Susan wouldn't even _think_ of doing something like that now. Why had she changed? Edmund tried to dwell on the happier aspects of the dream-perhaps they could be like that yet again-but as he fell asleep his soft laughter was mixed with tears.


	6. Winter

**Disclaimer: Narnia and the Pevensies are owned by C.S. Lewis. So is the White Witch.  
**

* * *

Snow flakes fell upon the grass, coating it in white. Edmund watched this with apprehension while his classmates watched in awe and joy. It was the first week of December and the snow made one thing clear: winter had arrived.

Edmund shuddered as he walked from his last class to his room. Now there was a_ reason_ to feel cold, but that didn't ease his anxiety one bit. Even though they were no longer in Narnia and the White Witch was no longer a threat (_At least, not while I'm awake,_ Edmund thought bitterly), winter still agitated him, even outside of Narnia. Usually he would be in better spirits when Christmas arrived. Until then, he was in a state of internal misery that no one but his brother and sisters could understand.

This year things were quite different. Peter wasn't around to reassure his younger brother that everything was alright. Sure, they corresponded by letters but that wasn't the same. When the first snow fell, Edmund nearly thought he was going to have a panic attack. The only thing that saved him was re-reading letters from both Lucy and Peter, which assured him that his brother and sister were safe and (in Peter's case) happy.

"Why can't Christmas just come already?" he asked as he opened the door to his room and slipped quietly inside.

The room was empty and Edmund was glad. He had a big history test the next day and wanted to study in peace. Not that his room mate was particularly distracting, but Edmund always found it easier to study alone.

He flicked the pages of his history book and opened his notebook to his most recent notes. They were studying American History and Edmund noted that Susan might have liked this subject-she had, after all, loved her trip to America. He and Lucy discussed what America would be like and both wanted to go, but for now Edmund was resigned to learning about the country in history books.

After fifteen minutes of studying Edmund looked up-the snow was falling harder now and the grass was evenly coated. His chest seemed to get tight and he gasped out loud, though not consciously. This was winter. "I hate winter," he muttered, and turned back to his books.

_Why am I so afraid? It wasn't nearly as bad last year!_ he thought angrily. It was frustrating-the fear of winter he felt now was keeping him from studying and he wished Peter were here _now_ to talk to. Peter always knew what to say. As his thoughts turned from his brother Edmund realized he was shaking.

"Bother it all!" he snapped and threw his text book against the opposite wall. It hit rather loudly and fell to the floor. Edmund, still quite angry, pushed the notes off his bed; they scattered all over the floor, leaving a mess. He didn't care, though. He flung himself on the bed and buried his face in the pillow.

"This is ridiculous!" Edmund told himself. "I shouldn't be like this-it's only winter. It's only winter and there's nothing to fear." He told this to himself over and over in a quiet voice until he found himself standing at the window, his hands making small imprints on the glass. _Lucy says it's beautiful-not harmful at all_, he reminded himself.

Perhaps he would have stayed this way for hours, just watching the snow fall and fall outside in peace. Instead he felt a rather sharp pain in his head, just above his eyes. He went to massage the area and found that there was another sharp pain towards the back of his head. Frowning, he massaged this area as well, but a sharper pain made him yell "Ow!" out loud.

_Perhaps I've been thinking too much,_ he thought. _I should try and relax._ This Edmund did by taking a few deep breathes and closing his eyes, trying to empty his mind of all thoughts. The throbbing in his head became worse, however, and his neck hurt a bit too. The pain was becoming sharper.

Edmund leaned his forehead against the window-the coolness of the glass seemed to numb the pain for a bit and he sighed. Perhaps if this helped he could get back to studying…

Suddenly the pain reached a pitch that was hard to describe other than it felt like a knife was being driven into Edmund's skull. He yelled again and clutched his head, but none of this did anything. The pain radiated down into his neck. His vision was clouded in white and he had no idea whether he was still at the window or whether he was standing or on the floor. It felt as though the temperature in the room had dropped a few more degrees. This made him shiver madly and only made the headache worse.

It was so bad that Edmund actually screamed, and when he did something hit his leg and he fell (it was only then that he realized he had been standing the whole time). A moment later he found himself slumped against something. The pain slowly subsided and Edmund opened his eyes to find that everything was blurry. It hurt to try and focus and his eyelids felt sore when he blinked. He found he was slumped against the bed-his bed. He glanced at the floor next to him, where his notes were scattered, and he sighed. Suddenly he was dead tired.

Edmund was in the process of dragging himself into bed when something made him stop. His blood felt frozen in his veins, making him feel cold from within rather than as a result of the room temperature. His limbs were stiff and he was shocked to find that his hands were white as anything. Almost as white as _Her_ hands.

This sent Edmund into a state of panic that he had never known before. "No!" he said in desperation. "This can't be because of her. She's not _here_. No, I was just studying too hard and it is cold…and my _blood_ can't be cold." He shuddered and realized that this did nothing to dispel his fears-in fact, the nightmare he had about Peter started to play again before his eyes in full force.

_It has begun._

The phrase came clearly as the memory of the nightmare ended. Perhaps, Edmund thought, this single phrase was what plagued him. Dreams were supposed to be just that-dreams. Yet Lucy had also told him once that they reflected, subconsciously, something the dreamer was thinking about or was bothered by. Edmund tried to think what would bother him so much if it had began and found himself at a loss.

"Perhaps it meant winter has begun," he said quietly, and looked out the window again. "Maybe this is all in my head. I've been thinking about the dream too much-that's it-and that phrase has been bothering me all the time. Now it's clear-I was probably just worried about winter and now there's nothing to worry about." This still didn't explain the Witch's killing Peter, but at the moment Edmund was willing to disregard that in favor of a quick explanation.

Too tired to do anything else, Edmund threw himself on the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

"Would you like something to eat?" someone asked some time later. Edmund opened his eyes and found, to his displeasure, that his neck still hurt. The speaker was Christopher, who was holding a plate in front of him. "I noticed you weren't at dinner and…Are you alright?"

"Fine," Edmund muttered, pushing himself up. He accepted the plate. "Thanks."

Christopher nodded and looked around at the papers scattered everywhere and the text book lying on the floor. "Studying didn't go well?" he asked.

Edmund felt his cheeks go red when he realized what a mess he'd left behind. Leaving the plate on his bed he moved to pick up everything. His limbs were still stiff and he said, "Don't you feel frozen in here?"

"Not at all-it's quite warm," Christopher answered, helping to pick up the papers. "Perhaps you're sick or something."

"I don't think so," Edmund said as he gathered the last of his notes and deposited them on the bed. "You can check if you like."

Christopher did what Susan would have done in such a situation-he felt Edmund's forehead with the back of his hand, which felt gloriously warm against Edmund's skin. He withdrew it quite suddenly. "You are _stone_ cold!" he exclaimed. "I swear-you have the opposite of a fever. Are you sure you haven't been outside?"

Edmund frowned, feeling a bit disturbed that he could be so cold without having gone outside. He wanted to blame it on the heating system, but Christopher said he felt warm in the room. "I wasn't, and that's strange," he said. Then he shivered. "I hate winter."

"I find it quite nice," Christopher said. "It's not the best season for being out doors, but it feels so good to warm up after playing in the snow. And you can't have snow ball fights or sledding in the summer."

Edmund nodded in agreement. Still, this whole thing was very strange and he searched his mind for some possible explanation. None came to him, and he decided that if the cold was coming from _himself_ then something needed to be done. He pulled on a sweater in an effort to get warm and said, "I should probably go back to sleep then. It's warmer under the blankets." This he did a few moments later. There was no point in trying to study anymore.

Edmund had been hoping for a peaceful sleep, but apparently even this could not be given to him. His dreams were strange and disjointed, and although he couldn't remember exactly what happened in them when he woke up, he remembered a horribly familiar voice asking him, _"You don't _remember_?"_

Now there was another thing to worry about-why would the White Witch be asking him such a question. He had a question of his own once he woke up: "Remember _what_?"

A chill overtook him and a vague memory pulled at the corners of his mind and suddenly Edmund shut the memory out. He had the terrible feeling that he wouldn't like whatever he was supposed to have remembered, and that was why he had forgotten it in the first place. He didn't_ want_ to know.

_Not_, he thought rather pessimistically,_ that I'm going to have a choice in the matter._

* * *

**Author's Note: This will be the last update for a few days as I'm going to Mexico. However, I do have part of the next chapter written up and I might get some writing done on vacation. (It's a long plane ride.) An update should come around Tuesday or Wednesday. Meanwhile, thanks to everyone who reviewed and added the story to alerts or favorites, and I hope you've enjoyed everything so far. **


	7. A Vision In White

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry I couldn't update earlier, but due to delays in arrival back home and some less-than-good luck I haven't had time with my computer until now. I did have my notebook, though, and so Chapters 7-10 (well, half of 10) are written and just need to be typed and edited. Thank you for all the well-wishes and reviews! **

**On the subject of updates, they might get less frequent as I start work next week and also start my summer reading. I do have all the chapters planned out, though, which should help the process along.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Narnia, or its inhabitants. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

"Peter, perhaps you would like to take a trip to the store?" Mrs. Pevensie asked tentatively. Peter was intently reading a book for school. He'd been home a lot longer than his younger siblings and had taken full advantage of this free time to study.

"Mmm?" Peter asked, looking up from his book as though in a daze.

"I'll go," Lucy interjected, having just come into the kitchen. "It looks as if Peter is studying anyway. Besides, I have nothing else to do."

"But someone would need to go with you, dear," Mrs. Pevensie said with a frown. "I can't have you going alone." At this point Edmund also entered the kitchen, saw Peter, and made to leave again. However, it was too late; his mother had noticed and she smiled. "Perhaps Edmund would like to go."

Edmund realized he was not really going to have a choice in the matter and so, in a resigned voice, asked, "Go where?"

"To the store with your sister," their mother answered. "I want to make a rather nice Christmas dinner and I need food to do it. I've come up with a list of ingredients and I'll give you the money. I'd ask your father to go but he seems rather busy himself…bringing work home."

_Peter's just like him_, Edmund thought. Out loud he said, "Alright, I'll go."

At this Peter looked up and said, "Now hold on a moment. You asked me first. I say I'll go with Ed and Lucy can stay here and help you make dinner."

"Peter! I _want_ to go," Lucy cried. Her face was set and stubborn.

"If you go there's no need for me to go," Edmund added. Peter glared at him and Edmund gave him a small smile. Truth be told, he was avoiding Peter because he knew Peter would ask him what his problem was. Edmund didn't want to tell him.

"Besides Peter, you're studying," Lucy said in a sweet voice. "I know more about these types of things anyway, as _I_ actually cook. You and Edmund only eat, and if you go I just _know_ you'll get something wrong." Edmund shot a grateful look at his sister although she didn't realize she was helping him.

"Fine," Peter muttered, looking defeated. As Mrs. Pevensie went to get some money and Lucy went to get changed, he looked meaningfully at Edmund and added, "But don't think you're off the hook just yet. I have a whole week and a half to talk to you."

"If you can get me alone," Edmund countered and before Peter could respond he had left the room. He felt that this had been entirely too close a call.

A few minutes later he and Lucy were walking down the street as a light snow fell. The air was cold but by now Edmund was used to being cold. Lucy stuck out her tongue as they walked and giggled when she caught a snow flake. "Don't you just love catching snow flakes?" she asked him.

"Truth be told, I don't do it much," Edmund replied. "Aren't you getting a bit old for that, anyway?"

"You sound like Susan," Lucy pouted, and Edmund felt a pang of guilt when he realized he did. "One is never too old to experience the simple joy of catching snowflakes."

"Wise words," Edmund said with a small smile. "I'm sorry, by the way. It's just that, as you know, I'm not a huge fan of winter."

Lucy gave him an understanding look and reassured him. "Christmas is just around the corner, you know."

"Thank goodness." They walked in silence for a bit before Edmund's attention turned to the piece of paper Lucy held. "What's on the list?"

"Oh, the usual," Lucy said. "Bread, steaks, seasoning, spices, and wine. I suspect Father will have to get the wine, though, because we're not old enough." She frowned a bit and Edmund knew what she was thinking: they had been old enough in Narnia. "Then, of course, there are some dessert items. From the looks of it-flour, sugar, baking soda-Mother wants to bake a cake."

"Cake is nice," Edmund said absentmindedly. In truth cooking never interested him in the slightest. Eating was a different story. He and Peter enjoyed _that_ very much. He was more pre-occupied with getting to the store in good time. He wasn't wearing a hat and the winter air was penetrating his coat and making his ears numb. He started to speed up his pace and Lucy, who was shorter than him, was half running to keep up.

"Why are you walking so fast?" she asked. "The store isn't closing that soon. I'll never keep up at this rate." Sighing, Edmund slowed down and they were forced to stop at an intersection before crossing the street. The cars sped past, disturbing the air slightly in their wake.

"It must be fun to drive," Lucy said. "That was one thing we never did in Narnia. What do you think?" She glanced over at her brother. "Edmund?"

But Edmund was suddenly staring across the street with quite an odd look on his face. At first he'd glanced across to make sure it was the right crossing, but then something caught his eye and he looked harder. At first nothing was out of the ordinary…and then he realized. There was a tall, pale woman in a white gown of the strangest design standing across the street staring _directly at him_ with a sort of sneer on her face. Edmund gasped. It was _Her_.

Instinctively his grip on Lucy's arm tightened and she squirmed uncomfortably. She also continued to call his name but he couldn't hear her. His eyes were fixed on the Witch just across the street. She was _smiling_. He hated the look of that smile, as though she knew something he didn't. _But what if she does?_

Edmund shook his head to clear the thought and continued to stare at her. Then, suddenly, he remembered his sister and turned to her alarmingly fast just as she was saying, "Edmund! We can cross now. Why aren't you-?"

He cut her off, putting a hand on her shoulder and shaking her. "Lucy! We can't cross! Don't you see?" Lucy frowned up at him but he yelled, "Look over _there_!"

Lucy looked. Edmund also looked and just as Lucy said, "I don't see anything" in an odd voice, the Witch started _laughing_ at him.

"She's right…Lucy," Edmund's voice was strangely quiet as he continued to look across the street at the Witch laughing at his plight, and suddenly a thought came to him. "You can't _see_ her?"

"Edmund, no one is there," Lucy told him slowly, her frown deepening as she tried to understand her brother.

"You can't see her," Edmund repeated, not a question this time. His voice was hoarse, and next he addressed the Witch. "She can't see you." The Witch's lip curled and she gave him a curt nod before disappearing completely. He gasped and knew that none of this could be good for him. _Am I going mental?_ he asked himself.

Edmund shook his head again and turned to Lucy, whose look of concern pained him. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice full of worry. "Because I wasn't lying. You know I wouldn't lie about that. No one was there."

"Forget it," Edmund muttered, waving a hand dismissively and starting to walk across the street. "I think it must have…I must have been thinking of something else."

Lucy, who knew that she'd never get anything more out of her brother, said, "Okay…as long as you're alright." Edmund nodded distractedly and the subject was dropped altogether. Food shopping was an awkward affair, however, and by the time they set out for home again Lucy vowed to talk to Susan or Peter about this.

* * *

Peter was out with their Father when they got home, so Lucy sought out Susan instead, who was home (a rarity) and in their room. Edmund had gone to take a shower-"to clear his head," he'd said-and this left Lucy free to tell Susan what had happened without fear of discovery. She only hoped her older sister would listen.

"Susan?" Lucy called tentatively as she opened the door to their room. It had been so long since they had last talked-_really_ talked. Lucy was nervous. "Yes?" Susan called back, and Lucy took this as her sign to enter the room.

She crossed the room in a few steps and sat on the edge of Susan's bed. Susan was doing her hair and Lucy frowned. "Are you going out?"

"Just experimenting with new styles," Susan replied, gesturing to a magazine on the bed. "So," she looked up. "What's wrong? You look upset."

Lucy was relieved that Susan noticed and immediately launched into her story of what happened. She told Susan how Edmund had seen something that she couldn't see, and how that something had really been a someone because Edmund said "her". Susan listened to this all rather attentively, but something in her face showed that she did not like what she was hearing.

"What do you think he could have seen? I mean, who was the 'her'? He looked scared, and I don't know what he could have been so scared of seeing, especially if nothing was there." Lucy sighed as she finished, having not paused for breath in a good while.

Susan regarded her thoughtfully and then asked, "Has it occurred to you that Edmund might…not have been telling the truth?"

"Susan, how can you say such a thing!" Lucy cried. "You _know_ he wouldn't lie about something like that!"

"I know," Susan admitted, "but I don't like the fact that he saw something no one else could see."

Lucy shook her head. "I don't either," she said, and it disturbed her even more because in the past she'd always been the _first_ to see what would not normally be seen. "It's happened before though, and…" Lucy hesitated and then launched into what she wanted to say. "I was the first to find Narnia and no one believed me at first but I _was_ telling the truth. And on our second visit I saw Aslan when no one else could and I was telling the truth. You and Peter didn't believe me, though."

Susan's jaw clenched and something like anger flashed in her eyes. "That's different," she said shortly.

"My point," Lucy said in a slightly exasperated tone, "is that Edmund probably isn't lying and chances are, judging from past experiences, he's telling the truth."

Susan shook her head. "I can't believe that," she said. "Seeing things was all very well when we were younger but we both know it can't happen now."

Lucy stared at her. "What do you mean?" she asked. Then something clicked. "Are you angry because we can't go back? That doesn't mean anything! It's very possible for Edmund to have seen something. Aslan is in our world too, you know."

"It seems he's very good at hiding then," Susan muttered darkly. Lucy started to say something but Susan added, "Lucy, it is over. It was a nice game and now we're older and we must move on. Disregard what happened with Edmund. He was probably caught up in thoughts-you know how he thinks too much."

Lucy was looking at Susan with mixed sympathy and surprise at how she had brushed Edmund's problem off so quickly. Then, when Susan went back to doing her hair, Lucy felt angry. "Fine," she said coldly. "I'll talk to Peter about it when he gets home." She stood up quickly and left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Susan looked up at the closed door and for a second looked as though she would very much have liked to cry. She took a deep breath and forced down the feeling. Then she turned to her magazine and ran her hand through her hair. "It doesn't matter anymore," she told herself and set about to styling her hair again.

Her two younger siblings would have liked her help at the moment, but Susan had rendered herself incapable of giving it.


	8. The Lion

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies or any Narnian characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

Christmas Eve was a rather interesting affair. No one wanted to go to bed early. The four Pevensies were too old to believe in Father Christmas in the eyes of their parents. (Of course they all knew Father Christmas was very much a reality…in other places.) Still, Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie insisted the children go to bed because "otherwise we shan't be able to properly take your presents and put them under the tree." So, led by Susan, the siblings told each other goodnight and went to bed.

Lucy was having a particularly hard time of going to sleep. One might have thought this was due to the excitement of Christmas, but in actuality it was something completely different. Lucy had yet to tell Peter about Edmund's…problem. This was not her fault, exactly. Her mother had been doing a lot of decorating, shopping, and cooking in the past few days to prepare for Christmas and get them into the Christmas spirit. As a result Lucy and Susan spent most of their time helping her.

Peter was also hard to find as he seemed to want to talk to Edmund, though about what Lucy could only guess. Edmund would go out for long walks or lock himself away somewhere in the house with a book. He was very good at being evasive when he wanted to. The business of finding him and talking to him distracted Peter and Lucy felt she needed to talk to Peter when he was willing to pay full attention. Thus, Christmas Eve arrived and still nothing had been accomplished. The problem still plagued Lucy's thoughts.

Sighing, she turned over. It was near midnight and her parents would be unhappy if they found her still awake. She closed her eyes and began to tell herself that everything would be alright in due time.

_Lucy felt wonderful. She was in a wardrobe full of winter coats and the reason she felt so good was because the empty wardrobe had a calming effect. She could hear nothing of the outside world and as a result had nothing to worry about. She grinned and began to walk towards the back wall. _

_However, there was no back wall. Lucy's heart filled with wild joy as she pushed aside a few coats and found them replaced with bushes. The ground beneath her feet softened as it turned from wood to grass and leaves. Lucy made her way through the bushes and found herself in a small clearing. At the center stood a very familiar Lantern. _

"_I thought I could never go back," Lucy murmured to herself in wonder. "This place is…just as I remember. And so pretty in the summer!" For although she had only been there a few minutes she knew it was summer by the look of the place. It was much more delightful to come this way now than it was when Lucy first entered Narnia during the 100 year winter. _

_As Lucy approached the Lantern she wondered what was going on in this world presently and how much time had passed since she had last been here. When she touched the pole memories flooded back and she half expected Mr. Tumnus to appear out of nowhere. She then disregarded the idea as silly. Mr. Tumnus was no longer alive and as far as Lucy knew time in Narnia did not flow backwards. Feeling slightly foolish for staying so long, and almost hearing Susan chastising her for dwelling in the past, she left the clearing and walked into the surrounding forest. _

_The forest was thick with trees and was rather quiet. Lucy went forward with much caution as she was unarmed and didn't have her crown to prove that she was Queen Lucy from the Golden Age of Narnia. Occasionally she heard something that sounded like birds chirping and once in awhile a wind would rustle the leaves on the trees. Lucy wondered whether any dryads were around when this happened._

_This went on for a long while and Lucy wasn't sure whether to feel calm or worried. She had come across no one nor had she seen any living things, for that matter. She was just alone in the forest with no sense of time or even (now that she thought of it) direction. She was beginning to think of turning back when she stumbled into a small clearing. _

"_Hello?" Lucy called out. No answer came and she decided to take a rest in the sunny middle of the clearing. The grass was so soft and soon Lucy found herself lying down and the warmth of the sun was lulling her to sleep…_

_She didn't know how long she was asleep for but when she awoke it was quickly. She wasn't tired anymore. It was darker out, the shadows longer and the air colder. Lucy stood up and looked around. She realized with a jolt that she was lost and didn't have a clue as to how to get back. _

"_I should know this," Lucy muttered angrily. "I've been to Narnia often enough!" She was just beginning to feel hopeless when she turned around and nearly jumped. A great golden Lion was peering at her through the bushes. "Aslan!" she cried, for she knew it was Him, and she rushed forward._

"_You are lost," Aslan told her. Lucy thought he was purring and she hugged his great head and felt instantly calmer. _

_When Lucy let go and looked into his eyes, she felt warm again and said, in the most tranquil of tones (for that was how she felt), "Yes, I was lost. Am I really…in Narnia? I thought I wasn't allowed back."_

"_You aren't," Aslan affirmed. "You are not here physically."_

"_This is…a dream?" Lucy asked. Aslan nodded and she frowned. "Well! That means I fell asleep while I was sleeping…But…are you really here?"_

"_I am here, as I am everywhere, my dear," Aslan answered. Lucy nodded. She knew this well._

"_Why am I here?" she asked. _

"_You have been lost," Aslan said, "in the matter of your brother." Lucy suddenly understood him. _

"_Oh, Edmund! Yes, I suppose you could say I've been at a loss with him," she admitted. "I don't know what to do about it other than to tell Peter and hope he can help. I don't even understand what happened. Edmund saw someone. He…really did see _something_, didn't he?" Here Lucy was more uncertain; although she trusted Edmund, doubt still crept up on her and made her wonder if he really had been telling the truth. _

_Aslan nodded and now he looked very grave. It made Lucy feel uneasy. "Your brother did see someone and was telling the truth, as you should know." Lucy bowed her head in sorrow. "That is why you have been called here to speak with me."_

"_I'm sorry I doubted him," Lucy said quietly. Aslan purred and she knew she was forgiven. "Who was it he saw, though? I saw how he reacted and…it can't have been someone very nice."_

"_It would be best if he told you," Aslan said gently. "Lucy, I did not call you here to tell you what he can say himself. Rather, I want to give you strength for what lies ahead. There will be difficult times and you will need to be brave and strong for your brother. Help Peter and Susan to do the same as well. Keep your faith in Edmund and in myself, and this way you shall overcome any difficulties in your path. Do you understand?"_

_Lucy nodded. She felt her eyes stinging at the thought of such a daunting task. She swallowed. "You'll help me, won't you?" she asked softly._

_Aslan nuzzled her and reassured her, "I will help you. But whether everything turns out well is up to Edmund, not me, and you must help him to be strong." Lucy nodded. "It will not be easy, and I doubt Edmund will be in a position to make it easy, but I have faith in you." Lucy gave a watery smile, feeling slightly better. "Now go. There is much to be done."_

_Then everything began to fade and Lucy felt much lighter as Narnia faded from view and was replaced by her bedroom …_

Lucy jumped out of bed. Sunlight filtered through the windows and signaled the arrival of Christmas Day. She ran into her brothers' room, careful not to wake Edmund as she silently walked towards Peter's bed. When she did, she threw back the covers. Peter groaned and turned away from the window, but Lucy shook his shoulders until he opened his eyes and sat up. Lucy put her finger to her lips.

"Peter," she whispered. "I need to talk to you. Alone." She glanced at Edmund, who had begun to move around in his sleep. "Can you come downstairs with me?"

"If this is about presents-" Peter started but Lucy cut across him.

"It's not." The look on her face was so serious that Peter wasted no time in getting out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible. He followed Lucy downstairs into the living room.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice once they were sitting.

"It's about Edmund," Lucy said. She then proceeded to tell Peter everything.


	9. The Voice

**Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis is the owner of the Pevensies and any of the characters found in the Narnia books, including Narnia itself.**

* * *

Edmund's Christmas Day was terrible. It meant he had to be with his siblings all day and after they opened presents one of his worst fears came true: Lucy tried to confront him.

"Edmund, we need to talk," she said after he sat down on the living room couch.

"Lucy, I don't want to," he told her firmly. Lucy looked around. Their parents were in the kitchen and Peter and Susan had gone upstairs briefly.

"We need to and you know it," she whispered, grabbing his arm and dragging him into their Father's study.

Edmund wrenched his arm out of her grip and frowned as she shut the door behind them. "If this is about what happened," he said angrily, "then I don't want to talk. Leave it alone."

"I had a dream," Lucy said quickly. Edmund looked at her expectantly and, feeling slightly victorious, she continued, "Aslan was there and we were in Narnia."

"Aslan was there?" Edmund asked, his anger replaced by curiosity. For the first time in a long time he felt hope.

"Yes," Lucy confirmed. "He warned me of difficult times and said we needed to be strong. He told me to help you and…what is wrong?"

Edmund's face had darkened and he felt angry again. "Lucy," he growled, "I told you: _I don't want to talk_."

Lucy's eyes widened. To herself she thought, _He never said it would be easy_, and to Edmund she asked in an angry voice, "You don't believe me?"

"I believe you!" Edmund sighed in frustration. He always believed her, but that didn't mean he always liked it. "I just-it's _Christmas_, Lucy! Can't we just leave well enough alone? I'm _fine_. Why don't you believe _me_?"

Lucy bit her lip as though she was holding back something. Edmund turned around sharply and opened the door. Just as he made to step out Lucy called out, "I believe Aslan and He said you saw something!" He paused and stiffened, not sure whether to turn and say something or walk away. Lucy would be more likely to figure everything out if Edmund confronted her, so he walked out and shut the door behind him, leaving his younger sister in a very dark and empty room.

Later, as Edmund was walking to his room from a very awkward dinner (Lucy and Peter had both been giving him meaningful and pointed looks and Susan kept trying to figure out why by asking very direct questions) he thought about what Lucy said. Aslan had warned her of something. But _what_? Surely it couldn't have to do with what he had seen. But then again Aslan knew everything and he shivered when he realized this was most likely what Lucy had been warned about…or at least the two things were related. _Does that mean this was _real_?_ he asked himself. _Surely Aslan will help me, then._

Just as he reached for the door to his and Peter's room, Edmund could have sworn he heard someone whisper his name. He paused and turned around. No one was there. "Peter? Susan? Lucy?" he called softly. When no one answered he tried, in a last attempt, "Aslan?" Just as he was beginning to think he was imagining things the voice, now slightly louder and very close to him, purred, _Think again._

Edmund stiffened and his breath caught. The voice belonged to the White Witch, he was certain. This time he was sure it hadn't been imagined. "What do you want?" he hissed, hoping that no one would come into the hallway and hear him. He looked around again not for his family, but for the Witch.

_No one else will hear me_, the Witch's voice told him. Edmund gave up on looking for a source. _Don't you feel…_special_?_

The very word made Edmund feel sick. When he'd first met her he had thought he was special, but it was just the opposite when he reflected on it later. He wanted desperately to call Peter but his thoughts turned to Aslan. _The Lion will save me_, he tried to assure himself, ignoring the uncertainty lurking in the back of his mind.

As soon as he thought this the Witch chose to speak again: _You will see just how wrong you are._

These words had a profound effect on Edmund; he stumbled into the opposite wall and his legs gave out, causing him to fall onto the floor. He started shaking as it rushed back at him--the nightmare he had years ago when the Witch told him she had cursed him. She had said the curse would manifest itself when he least expected it and he certainly had not expected it now when he was out of Narnia. His heart clenched as he realized this was actually happening. The curse was taking effect, and _this_ was what Aslan had warned Lucy about.

Edmund ran a hand through his hair and looked up to find Susan staring at him. He found that he was against her door. Slowly and shakily he stood.

"Ed," Susan said, grabbing his arm to steady him. "Are you alright? You look so pale and…you're shaking. Why were you on the floor?" She felt his forehead. "Are you sick? No…you feel rather cold, not warm…"

"I," Edmund started. He stopped himself. Susan would not understand at all. She was trying to forget Narnia as far as he knew and she would not like to hear about this. "I suppose I'm just tired. It's been a long day. I'm going to bed."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Susan asked, looking very concerned. Edmund nodded and before she could say anything else or examine him any further he walked into his room.

Once there, he sat on the bed and tried to think of what to do. "Maybe this isn't real," he muttered. "Maybe it's all in my imagination." Even he knew none of this was true, though, and he felt all the worse because of it. "Then how do I fix it?" he asked angrily. "I can't go around seeing things and hearing voices and being cold forever!"

For the second time he considered asking Peter to help him, but he wondered what Peter could actually do. This was _magic_ he was dealing with, and although Peter was good at many things, Edmund doubted he could effectively deal with magic. That was something only Aslan had the power to help him with.

_Aslan, if you really are here, can you please tell me exactly what is going on? _he asked silently.

The answer he got came more of thinking. He remembered what Lucy tried to tell him about Aslan. She knew, to a certain extent, that something was wrong. Did she know everything? She had asked what was wrong, so she couldn't have been told exactly what was going on. Edmund sighed. Perhaps there was nothing more to know other than the fact that he was cursed. Resigning himself to this, Edmund asked, "Can you help me?"

"As long as you help yourself," Aslan's voice seemingly came from nowhere and yet filled the room. It comforted Edmund but he didn't understand what the Lion meant. _As long as he helped himself? _What could he do?

"It is up to _you_ to defeat the curse." Aslan's words sounded stronger this time, as if he wanted Edmund to firmly remember what was being said. "I have faith in you."

"At least someone does," Edmund muttered. He lay back on the bed and tried to come up with ways he could defeat the curse. He had never really dealt with magic. That was something Aslan had done. The only time he came close was when he smashed the Witch's wand. He was only Edmund. And yet, somehow it was up to him…Yes, Aslan had faith in him, but this didn't exactly alleviate his fears.

"So Aslan can't help me out of this?" he asked aloud. It sounded worse once he said it because it sounded so true. If it was truly up to him to rid himself of this curse and he didn't even know how, he was not going to be back to normal anytime soon. The very idea of it was daunting and rather terrifying. Would he have to personally confront the Witch? Or if he ignored it, would it go away?

"I'll ignore it," he decided, as he didn't know how confronting the Witch (if he even could) would solve anything. "It is not happening. It never happened. I won't give _Her _the satisfaction by acknowledging it, and perhaps it will go away as a result." He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and threw the covers over his head. A few second later the door opened and Peter called in softly, "Edmund? Are you awake?"

Edmund steadied his breathing and didn't move. He heard Peter sigh in a rather frustrated way and mutter, "I'm never going to talk to him! And even Susan's noticed something is wrong." Edmund's stomach clenched; Peter still wanted to talk and there was no way he could avoid him forever. And _Susan_ had noticed him. He would have to get better at hiding everything.

A few minutes later Peter's steady breathing filled the room. Edmund found it hard to fall asleep. Eventually he did, but only after it became very late.


	10. Interrogation

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies or Narnia and its inhabitants. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

It was early in the morning when the Pevensie siblings found themselves awake and preparing to return to school. Susan, Edmund, and Lucy, at least, were upstairs preparing. Peter, who had yet to leave for University again, was downstairs trying to talk his parents into letting him take his siblings to the station. He was still at it when those siblings came downstairs for breakfast.

"Well, it's their choice, really," Mrs. Pevensie reasoned.

"What's our choice?" Edmund asked with a suspicious look at Peter, who avoided his gaze.

"Peter wants to take you to the station," Mr. Pevensie told them. "What do you all think?"

Lucy immediately said, "Yes! Oh, please, let Peter take us!" and at the same time Edmund had firmly answered, "No! Father, why can't you take us?" Peter gave him an odd look but said nothing.

"Susan?" Mr. Pevensie said quietly. Susan had been looking thoughtful the whole time.

"Peter can drive us if he likes," she answered finally. "At least he won't cry over our leaving."

"I do not cry," Mrs. Pevensie said with a small grin. She looked imploringly at her children.

"You sob," Lucy offered and they laughed. Only Edmund did not join in.

"Then it's settled," Mr. Pevensie said. "Peter will see you off at the station."

"No!" Edmund said angrily. "Why?"

"Why not?" Mr. Pevensie asked. "Are you and Peter fighting?"

"Something like that, apparently," Peter muttered, but no one heard him save for Edmund, who shot him a glare.

"_No_," Edmund said, going a little red. "At least, not yet. But we might if you let him take us." Peter frowned at him.

"I'm sorry, Ed," he said quietly.

"I don't know what problem you have with your brother, Edmund," Mr. Pevensie said, "but you had better solve it. The vote is two against one. Like it or not, Peter is taking you." Edmund did not reply. He only scowled. Nothing could be done.

Two hours later Edmund was scowling at the train tracks as he waited for the train back to school to arrive. Lucy was next to him looking slightly upset and Peter next to her looked grave. Right now Edmund felt angry at both of them.

As soon as they had gotten to the station Susan drifted off with some friends. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy sat together on a bench as they waited. Edmund was wondering when Peter was going to start questioning him (as surely this was what he had in mind when he volunteered to accompany them to the station). Yet as they waited Peter never said a word.

Relaxing a bit and thinking (hoping) that perhaps Peter had forgotten about everything, he began looking around. Most of the people in the station were students like himself and Lucy. Suddenly, sitting near Peter, he felt very young. In his uniform he felt he looked rather boyish and silly and Peter…well, Peter really looked like an adult now. Edmund could almost see him in a crown making a speech to everyone…never mind the fact that he had been in the same boyish uniform only a year before.

To Edmund's great relief the train pulled up. He jumped up and grabbed his trunk. Lucy and Peter did the same (except of course Peter did not have a trunk to grab). The train stopped, the doors opened, and all three of them stepped into the train. Edmund immediately rounded on Peter when he saw this. "What are you _doing_?"

Peter ushered his two younger siblings forward to let others by and answered pleasantly, "I thought I'd escort you and Lucy to the mid-station. I bought my ticket yesterday."

"That's great," Lucy said although she didn't seem the least bit surprised. She led them to a compartment as the train doors closed.

"No," Edmund snapped, "It's not. Peter, you need to leave. _Now_."

The train jerked and started moving. Peter grinned. "I can't until we reach the next station." Edmund cursed under his breath as they entered a compartment and sat down. Lucy and Peter looked at each other for a second and then looked at Edmund.

"We need to talk," Peter finally said, clasping his hands together in a business-like fashion.

"I'm sorry," Lucy added looking very apologetic indeed, "but I had to tell Peter what happened the day you said you saw something. And about the dream, although it seemed that Peter wanted to talk to you before anyway."

"Fine, talk," Edmund sighed. He leaned back into his seat and frowned at the two of them.

"Lucy says you saw something when the two of you went out," Peter said, "and I think you've been hiding something. Your letters to me have been odd and very pointless at times and I think it's because there is something wrong. You're hiding something."

"And if there is," Lucy added, "you should tell us because we're your family.

"Nothing is wrong," Edmund said, "and perhaps the letters were pointless because there was nothing to say."

"Oh _really_," Peter said, raising his eyebrows. "I believe that as much as I believe the White Witch was good."

Edmund felt himself go pale at _Her _mention and he felt very uncomfortable. However, he forced himself to look calm and said, "Nothing happened in school, if that's what you mean. I have a very nice room mate, though. His name is-"

"Edmund," Peter interrupted sharply, "your room mate has nothing to do with this and you know it. Don't ask me how—must be brotherly instinct—but I can tell when something is bothering you."

"Perhaps you're confused this time," Edmund muttered, not meeting Peter's penetrating gaze. He looked at Lucy and then looked away. She had been looking very sad.

"I am not," Peter snapped. "I _know_. And Aslan told Lucy something is happening, or going to happen. We can address that in a moment. I want to know: why were you so concerned with my safety in your letters? And with my health?"

"A caring brother isn't allowed to inquire as to whether his older brother is safe and healthy?" Edmund asked testily, raising an eyebrow.

Peter glared at him. "I think you did more than 'inquire.' You sounded as if I had a reason to be unsafe or unhealthy. May I remind you that it is very safe where I go to school, otherwise Mother would have had a fit about me going (or would not have let me go at all)."

"I was bored." This was such a lie that even Edmund knew, as soon as he said it, he wouldn't be believed. He tried to amend this by saying, "I…missed you, as any brother would." This, at least, was true.

"And I appreciate it," Peter said. "I really do, but I know it's not as simple as that. You've missed me before, in Narnia when I would go to war and leave you behind. But then all you wrote me was 'Is everything well?' Not, 'Are you healthy? Are you safe? Are you sure about either of these things?' That sounds more like Susan!"

Edmund was growing so uncomfortable that his face was turning red. He wasn't sure what to do now. He managed to say, "This is different…you don't have a sword."

Peter and Lucy exchanged a look that Edmund didn't like at all, and Lucy nodded. By now Edmund wanted to jump out the window. Lucy gave him a very odd look—a cross between determination and sorrow—and said, "If everything was normal then _what did you see_?"

Her voice was so quiet it was barely above a whisper. Edmund choked, "What?" He asked because the question was one he hadn't wanted to be asked, and he was even less prepared to answer it. Or at least, answer it in a way that made Peter and Lucy happy._ It never happened_, he reminded himself. Yes, his new policy of dealing with the problem would have to be employed here. Before he could answer, Peter cut in.

"What did you see, Edmund?" His voice was rather loud and aggressive. "Lucy says you saw something! What was it?"

"It was nothing," Edmund told him, trying to be calm as ever. "I was just a little tired and-"

"Nothing!" Peter cried, throwing his hands up. "Lucy saw your face. She said you looked terrified. You're telling me nothing happened?"

"Yes!" Edmund nearly shouted back (at any rate, his voice had risen to match Peter's). "Nothing happened, alright! I don't understand why you keep dwelling on an incident that took place almost two weeks ago! I'm fine, Lucy's fine. _You_ are fine. I saw nothing." He was almost all the way out of his chair and nearly face-to-face with Peter. Both looked livid.

"But Aslan said you saw something, that you needed strength," Lucy said quietly. "He implied that whatever you saw…and whatever is going to happen isn't good."

"Aslan doesn't lie," Peter said, his voice low and dangerous.

"But I do," Edmund muttered, looking away from both of his siblings. He felt terrible for lying, but he couldn't tell them the truth that he was trying to avoid. They wouldn't understand. Peter might do something drastic. Lucy would be afraid. Susan…

"Edmund," Lucy said softly as she reached out to touch him, perhaps to comfort him.

"No," Edmund said firmly, jerking away. He looked up at both of them. "It's nothing. Leave it alone. You wouldn't understand." Then, in a much quieter voice, "Leave me alone."

"Ed!" Lucy cried softly. "You can tell us."

"I can't," Edmund said in a frustrated tone. "You wouldn't…I can't do that to you. Please, just leave it alone. Perhaps it will go away."

"What is 'it' Edmund?" Peter asked sharply. Edmund just sighed and turned to the window.

"Didn't you hear him, Peter?" Lucy said bitterly and Edmund thought she was crying. "He said 'it' is nothing." They rode in silence for the rest of the way and Edmund felt wretched for lying and making Lucy and Peter feel upset and angry. He was angry at himself. But he knew they would only feel worse if he told them the real story and he didn't want that. They couldn't help him anyway.

_Not_, Edmund thought angrily, _when Aslan said only I could defeat…it. _

They got off at the mid-station and Peter bade them goodbye. "Tell me, please, if anything happens," he whispered to Edmund. "I'd hate if you got hurt." It was very awkward but Edmund nodded, even if he didn't really mean it. Peter hugged Lucy as her train back to school would arrive shortly after Peter's train back. Susan even found them and told Peter goodbye. She seemed to notice something was amiss.

"What is the matter?" she asked Lucy, who only shook her head. Susan sighed and looked at Edmund, who looked away. "Would you like me to sit with you?"

"I'd like that," Lucy said with a smile. To Edmund she said, "Please, if you won't tell us than just be strong and have faith. It's what Aslan wants. And what I want." Edmund didn't know what to make of the statement, and was so shocked that he barely hugged Lucy back when she told him goodbye. Her train had arrived and she and Susan got on together and the sight of it made Edmund smile a little despite everything.

"At least she'll feel better," he said to himself. A few minutes later his train arrived. Edmund had never been so relieved to go back to school.


	11. Things Seen

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or the Pevensies, or any Narnian characters.**

* * *

The return to school took awhile to get used to, but eventually Edmund fell back into the routine of going to classes, doing homework, and studying. He felt like he should write his siblings but every time he wanted to he found he didn't know what to write.

The letter Edmund started writing to Peter read, "Dear Peter, I just wanted to tell you that…" That what? He didn't really know. It wasn't about the curse, which Edmund had taken to calling "Nothing" or "It". It wasn't such a problem…It only prevented him from sleeping peacefully at night. Perhaps he wanted to tell Peter that he was sorry, but he didn't know exactly how to word it. Peter would want an explanation in addition to an apology.

Lucy was easier when it came to saying sorry, because she forgave a lot faster. As a result, his letter to her read, "Dear Lucy, I'm sorry." Short as it was, Edmund was tempted to send it. He really was sorry, but he felt he owed Lucy more of an explanation as well. This was where his mind shut any possible explanation out, leaving him with nothing. If he told her the truth Peter would find out…and although he was also sorry when it concerned Peter he most definitely did not want his older brother knowing about It.

"I really hope they're not angry," Edmund said to himself while staring at his letter to Lucy. He doubted they were very happy with him. He could have written Susan, who didn't know much, but he didn't want to if he couldn't also write to the other two. They might be upset that he chose to ignore them.

One cold day after classes Edmund took a walk outside. There was snow on the ground although it wasn't thick at less than a foot deep. It also wasn't the coldest day of the year, yet Edmund was freezing. He was alone and rather grateful for this. It would allow for him to think about what to do when it came to his siblings.

"Perhaps I just shouldn't write anyone at all," Edmund muttered as he walked. The school grounds were large and provided one with much space to walk, play games, or just sit outside. Edmund stayed close to the building and was walking around its perimeter. He didn't stray for fear of getting his feet wet with snow, which was never a pleasant experience.

He rounded a corner of the building and tried to think of what Susan, the most logical of the siblings, would do in this situation. Unfortunately, Susan had been distant as of late and Edmund felt like he didn't know her anymore. This caused him at first to draw a blank when he thought of what she would do. Then he thought harder. Perhaps Susan would not even have gotten into this mess. She would have rationally talked to Peter and Lucy about the truth from the start and then come up with a way to fix everything. If only Edmund knew what that way was.

_Well,_ he thought, _the way lies within myself, according to Aslan._ That didn't help in the least, and it was the reason for Edmund's lack of hope and utter distress. _I can keep on ignoring It and that seems to be working best…but this leaves me with confused siblings. What to tell them? Lucy and Peter know something's up. Perhaps I tell them the truth and my plan and hope they agree…But they would want to take action. They couldn't ignore it. They..._

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden piercing scream. Edmund nearly jumped out of his skin; the quiet from before having allowed him to become unaware of his surroundings. He ran towards the direction of the sound as another shriek sounded and he rounded the second corner of the building-

"Help!" The cries were coming from Susan, of all people, on the ground in front of him. Crouched above her was a single (but rather large) wolf, whose teeth were bared. Susan was dressed in her school uniform and it didn't even occur to Edmund why she would be there, or what the wolf would be doing there. He rushed forward, his hand reaching at his side as he cried, "Susan!"

The wolf looked up at him with narrow, yellow eyes and growled. At the same time Edmund stopped short as his hand gripped nothing but his belt and he realized with horror that he had no sword. The wolf's lips seemed to curl in a grin and Edmund did a strange thing—at least, it was strange in England but fairly routine in Narnia. He talked to the wolf. "Leave my sister alone."

"Edmund, get Peter," Susan cried. "He has his sword!" _No, he doesn't, _Edmund thought with a frown.

"Peter is not near," the Wolf said, and Edmund was startled, despite himself, to find it was a Talking Wolf. Talking animals did not exist in England.

"What are you doing here?" asked Edmund, more to the Wolf than Susan.

The Wolf sneered. "I am in the process of killing your sister," he drawled. "Surely you can see that. Now, if you don't mind…"

Edmund was shocked at the Wolf's response, and how calmly he had said it, as if killing Susan was nothing special. Indeed, it sounded as if he was saying he was making dinner, or washing clothes, not taking someone's life. "You are no longer," Edmund snapped. "Not as long as I'm here. How you got here is another matter entirely-"

"What!" the Wolf interrupted harshly. "You think just because you are no longer in Narnia that you and your siblings are _safe_ from creatures such as myself? You think that you are safe from the dangers Narnia presented to you?" He laughed. "Think again, little king. And what are you going to do now?"

"I will kill you," Edmund growled. "Even if I have to do it with my bare hands."

"I doubt it," the Wolf snarled. He then lunged forward and Edmund, acting on pure instinct, also lunged. He found himself sprawled on the ground in the snow. He immediately turned himself onto his back to find the Wolf gone. Susan, however, was still on the ground. The snow around her was turning red.

"No," Edmund whispered. "No, no!" His voice grew shaky with panic as he scrambled over to his sister, who looked to be in immense pain. There were gashes in her stomach and bleeding bite marks at her throat. She was struggling to breathe. "Susan!" Edmund took off his sweater and immediately started to staunch the bleeding. His first thought was to get the cordial, only to realize that the cordial was in Narnia and Susan's only help was a hospital. He didn't even know where the hospital was.

"Edmund," Susan whispered, her eyes closing. Edmund shook his head and felt completely at a loss.

"I tried to get him," he stammered. "I tried, Susan. I-he disappeared. I don't know how…I'm so sorry. I'll try to get help. I-I'll get the nurse! Yes, she'll know what to do. Just…stay here-"

But Susan weakly pulled him closer. She was so _calm_. "Ed," she whispered. "It's too late. Send my love-" With a sigh her words were gently cut off, and her body went completely limp. Edmund gasped and shook his head, tears trailing down his face.

"No!" he cried angrily. "No! How could I have let this happen! Susan, wake up!" He shook her. "Please, Su! Ugh! This is all my fault!" He stood up and looked towards the building, wondering vaguely why no one had come out upon hearing Susan's screams. He figured he should get someone…the thought was unbearable. To tell someone that his sister was dead and it was his fault…

Edmund looked back at Susan and gasped; Susan was no longer there, the snow no longer stained red. His sweater lay in the snow abandoned and rather wet, but not with blood. "What?" Edmund whispered. He picked up the sweater and looked around. Tears had frozen on his face. He was not crying anymore, but rather breathing heavily as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. He felt terrified, wondering if Susan really had just died or if it was all an illusion…

The sound of a door opening nearby made him look up. Several boys were coming outside and looked to be starting a snowball fight. The normalness of it all made him feel sick. Edmund walked away until he could no longer hear their laughter. He was shaking so badly that his teeth audibly chattered, and as soon as he was sure no one was around he was sick in the snow. When he was done, he looked around again, still shaking. Neither Susan nor the wolf had disappeared and Edmund decided that he needed to get inside.

Later, once he was in his room, he realized that whatever he had seen most likely wasn't real, or at least hadn't really happened. It was very much like how Peter had not actually been killed by the White Witch in his dream. Perhaps this was a nightmare of sorts, only while he was awake. It reminded him of when he saw the Witch while walking with Lucy and he wondered whether or not he would continue to see things like this. Obviously no one else had heard nor seen what Edmund had. Although it was hard, Edmund finally chose not to dwell on it. Dwelling on it would make him feel worse. _And that's just what she wants, I suppose, _Edmund mused. He had to wonder, though…

Edmund's wondering came to an end the next day as he walked to lunch. He was in the hallway with a bunch of other people and as he rounded the corner of the next hallway something caught his eye. He wasn't sure if he was imagining things, but it couldn't be so. As real looking as anything, the White Witch stood at the end of the hallway holding a small dagger to someone's throat. Edmund sped up his pace to see who the person was and stopped short. _Lucy_.

A few boys bumped into him from behind and told him, not too nicely, to move, but Edmund didn't even notice. He was staring at his younger sister in shock. She looked defiant, but there was a hint of fear in her eyes. "No," Edmund whispered to himself. "You're not real."

The Witch laughed. "Are you sure about that?" she asked. The dagger pressed into his sister's throat and she winced in pain.

Edmund gulped. "I'm sure," he said, though he sounded less confident.

"How do you know if your dear sister is or isn't being harmed where she is?" the Witch asked him.

"I don't," Edmund admitted. The dagger was pushed deeper, drawing some blood. He felt sick as Lucy let out a whimper of pain. The Witch did not relent and pushed even harder. Tears trailed down Lucy's cheeks. Finally, Edmund had reached his end. "Stop it!' he cried, moving forward. In that instant both the Witch and Lucy disappeared, leaving a wall before him and no trace of what had transpired there. He stood still, shaking.

It was then that Edmund remembered where he was and he looked around. Quite a few people were staring at him, including Christopher, who looked concerned. He felt himself go red. Some boys shook their heads and walked away. Hastily, Edmund wiped away a tear that had been trailing down his cheek. He took a deep breath to calm himelf.

Christopher walked swiftly over to Edmund and asked, "What was that all about?"

"Just thinking, is all," Edmund replied, trying to sound truthful.

"About _what_?" Christopher asked, obviously wondering what could have made Edmund yell out. Edmund bit his lip.

"Nothing." With that, Edmund left his side to walk to the cafeteria and a very confused Christopher needed to hurry to catch up.


	12. Bear It Well

**Disclaimer: The Pevensies, Narnia, and all that is Narnian is not mine. They belong to C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

Edmund could not blame anyone if they thought he was odd after his outburst in the hallway. Had he witnessed something similar, he might have thought the same thing. He could also not blame Christopher for being concerned with him. However, as Edmund did not like when people asked him questions concerning It, he chose to be less forgiving of his room mate.

When Christopher asked, just before their afternoon English class, if Edmund was _sure_ he was alright, Edmund responded with an annoyed, "Why do you keep asking me that? Are you my mother?" Of course he knew the answers to both questions, but he asked them as a way of getting Christopher to stop.

"No," Christopher replied shortly and with a frown. "You _are_ irritable." Edmund said nothing. "But if you must know, I feel concerned. This year you've been acting different. You haven't been normal. The outburst in the hallway the other day is only one of many incidents and you know it."

"Well, I'm fine," Edmund said. "I just…tend to have nightmares. That's all."

"You didn't last year," Christopher reminded him. This was true. They had been room mates the previous year and Edmund had no trouble sleeping. "This hasn't got anything to do with Peter, does it?"

Edmund was slightly taken aback by the question. No one had asked him about how Peter's absence affected him, yet here was his room mate bringing it up halfway into the year. Christopher waited for him to respond and Edmund composed himself. "I-er…I suppose you could say it has to do with Peter," he finally settled on. This, at least, wasn't a lie. Peter _had_ been the subject of one of his nightmares.

"If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here, you know," Christopher told him. "I don't have any siblings but…I know what loneliness feels like."

"You sound like Peter, just a little," Edmund said with a small smile. "That's enough talking about it for now, anyway. Hadn't we better get to class?" Christopher nodded and, relieved, Edmund led them into the classroom.

He liked English as a subject. Reading calmed him and he had done a lot of it in Narnia. Writing was also calming, though Edmund didn't like it as much. And Grammar was okay, but sometimes it got on his nerves.

Presently, the subject being discussed was Shakespeare's play, _Julius Caesar_. Edmund liked the play because it allowed one to judge for oneself whether Brutus was a noble man or a traitor, and Edmund of course had experience in the matter. However, this wasn't the discussion currently being had. Instead their teacher, a slight blonde woman named Mrs. Johnson, was dissecting Antony's persuasive speech that he gave to the crowd after Caesar's death. This too was interesting. Edmund thought it would have been more useful to learn persuasion when he had been a king in Narnia, though, rather than now as a boy in England. Still, he listened raptly.

According to Mrs. Johnson, Brutus' speech addressing the death of Caesar played on the peoples' logic, while Antony's spoke to their emotions. This got the class into a discussion of audience and how to approach a speech based on it. Edmund was trying hard to pay attention, but rather than boredom, a sharp pain in his chest distracted him. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his chest. This did nothing. Instead, he found that his whole body ached in a most peculiar way. Not sharply, but enough to make him feel uncomfortable. The only really sharp pain remained in his chest.

Edmund glanced sideways at Christopher, who sat next to him. He was also paying close attention to the lesson at hand. Edmund repositioned himself and winced as moving made everything worse. He wondered whether he should ask to go to the nurse. He had never done such a thing before, and as he got older he found his classmates did it less and less. Suddenly the pain in his chest increased so much that Edmund gasped—it hurt to breathe. Now his attention was completely lost.

Mrs. Johnson kept on talking, though her voice was only a steady noise in the background as Edmund lost track of his surroundings. The pain in his whole body seemed to radiate from his bones, and it was really hard to breathe now. He tried to ignore it but this was proving impossible. And then-

"Ah!" With a cry of pain Edmund slid from his desk to the floor. Mrs. Johnson looked up and immediately rushed towards her student. Christopher also rose from his desk and they both bent over Edmund. The entire class was looking his way.

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Johnson said and, before he could answer, she said to Christopher, "Go get the nurse and tell her to come here. Quickly." Christopher left the room without a word.

Edmund wasn't in a position to say he was fine. Not that he could. He felt worse than he'd felt in a long time. At the moment he couldn't breathe properly and was in such pain that tears were actually (and involuntarily) running down his face and he couldn't speak. Mrs. Johnson knelt down and began stroking his hair and telling him it would be alright. Edmund vaguely felt resentful at this. He hated being fussed over. He hated that he was crying and couldn't help it. His teacher's comforting seemed to ease his breathing though, so a few minutes later he managed to gasp, "I think…I can make it…to the nurse."

"No, you stay right there," Mrs. Johnson said. Edmund tried to move but winced as pain overtook him again. "The nurse is already on her way."

The nurse swept in with Christopher not far behind moments later and after much deliberation it was decided that she and Christopher would help get him to the school's hospital wing (which was really her office and a separate room with two beds). Each took one of Edmund's arms to support him, and soon they were off.

None of them spoke for the duration of the trip, save for the nurse when she asked if Edmund was having trouble breathing still. (He shook his head no.) Once they reached the hospital wing he was deposited gently on one of the two unoccupied beds. Christopher was dismissed back to class. As he left (with one fleeting, concerned glance back) Edmund couldn't help but think bitterly, _And just after I told him I was fine!_

The nurse bustled around out of Edmund's line of vision. He couldn't see much, as he was flat on his back and unwilling to move. Evidently she was looking up his medical records, as she asked his name twice and stated that he had a brother, Peter Pevensie, on file, although Peter no longer went to the school. All of which Edmund was well aware of.

Finally she began asking him questions. She seemed rather nervous. Her brown hair was rather stringy and messed up, as if she'd run her fingers through it many times. Her name tag read "Nurse Joan." She asked things like if Edmund had trouble breathing still (no), if he still felt pain (yes), where it was (in his bones, mostly his chest), and if it was still as severe as it had been in the classroom (no).

"Now, your parents should be contacted and I shall have to call the hospital," she muttered to herself, having written all of Edmund's answers down. "But which should I call first?"

"Excuse me," Edmund interrupted abruptly, sitting up just a bit and stifling a wince, "but did you say 'hospital?'"

"I did. An attack like that should be looked at as carefully as possible," Nurse Joan explained, "and you should be under observation. It seemed the level of your pain, and the fact that you could not breathe properly earlier, made for a severe condition. You need to be diagnosed, as I have no idea what this could be."

"You can't send me to the hospital!" Edmund cried without thinking. "It really wasn't that bad. Trust me. Teachers tend to over react."

"You were crying," Nurse Joan said curtly. "And you fell out of your desk. Now you're telling me this isn't bad?"

Edmund thought quickly. He figured his best way out was not with the hospital, but with his parents. "Call my parents first," he told her. "You can talk to them and then I'll talk to them."

Nurse Joan gave him a suspicious look but did exactly that. Soon she was relating Edmund's mysterious symptoms to his parents and telling them about what she wanted to do. She then handed over the telephone to Edmund, the cord stretching quite a bit as he reached for it.

"Edmund, are you all right?" It was his Mother's worried voice on the other end. She sounded terrified for him.

"I'm fine, Mum," Edmund lied. In truth, he still ached, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been before. "I don't need to go to the hospital. I feel much better."

"But dear, we need to find out what caused you such pain," Mrs. Pevensie said. "We can't have you sick and not know how to cure you."

"I'm _not_ sick," Edmund said, "and I'm pretty sure it was a one time sort of thing. I really, _really_ wouldn't feel comfortable going to the hospital. Mid year exams are coming up!" Here his voice hit a note of desperation.

Mrs. Pevensie sighed. "Edmund," she said, "I don't exactly feel comfortable about not addressing the problem."

"How about this, then," Edmund tried. "If it happens again I promise I'll go to the hospital. You have my word. But for now I should just spend the night in the nurse's office. It might not even be a sickness. It might just be related to…I don't know…the rigors of school."

"Alright," Mrs. Pevensie relented, "I'm taking your word. But if anything like this happens again you _must_ let someone know. We'll have to get to the bottom of it."

"I promise," Edmund assured her, though he wasn't being truthful and he felt guilty.

"I love you, as does your Father," Mrs. Pevensie told him.

"I love you too," Edmund said, truthfully. They hung up and Edmund was allowed to stay for the night before returning to classes the next day. He thought this lucky and knew how narrowly he'd escaped the hospital. The doctors would have never found anything, though, because Edmund knew this had to do with the curse. Other than that passing thought, he pushed the incident out of his mind, trying to not let it affect him.

A few days later Edmund received a letter from Peter. It told him the one thing he didn't want to hear: Peter had learned from their Mother about Edmund's experience in English class, and he insisted on Edmund writing back what was truly wrong with him. Edmund was at a loss. He wrote back, but the letter only said it was really nothing and he was fine.

"Always my answer," he told himself bitterly. He felt terrible for lying to Peter, but Peter would panic and possibly leave University to be with Edmund if he told the truth. The letter was mailed as it was, and Edmund prepared himself for the inevitability of Peter chastising him for not being truthful. He would write back that he was fine, and it would begin all over again.

Edmund grimly wondered if his plan of ignoring the curse was actually working. He chose to ignore this too. It only made things more difficult.


	13. Listening

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, the Pevensies, or any other recognizable character from the books written by C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

After leaving the hospital wing Edmund had not only gotten a letter from Peter asking him what happened, but he also found his room mate to be increasingly curious over what was happening.

"You tell me you're fine and then you have some sort of attack in English class," he summarized for Edmund with a hint of incredulity in his voice. "So when you tell me you're fine now, am I to believe you?"

"Yes," Edmund replied, "because the Nurse released me. She wouldn't have done so if I wasn't well."

Of course, Edmund had given Peter his standard answer. The post got their letters delivered pretty quickly, so he wasn't surprised to find a response from Peter a week later. He was, however, surprised to be called into the Nurse's office that same day during dinner.

"Is everything alright?" he asked Nurse Joan when he entered the area. There was one older boy there, looking rather feverish. Tentatively, Edmund perched himself on the other bed as the Nurse took his temperature.

Finally she turned from him, muttering, "He has a fever." Then she looked at Edmund carefully and added, "You're not far off."

"I'm sorry?" Edmund asked nervously, shifting a little.

"You look pale and tired," Nurse Joan told him grimly. "You don't look much better than when I sent you off a week ago. Perhaps I made the wrong choice…"

"Not at all," Edmund hurriedly assured her. "I haven't had any more…er…incidents or whatever you choose to call them." He paused as Nurse Joan informed her patient that he had a fever. "What am I in here for?"

"Oh!" Nurse Joan turned from the other boy and walked over to the telephone. She picked up a piece of paper next to it and handed it to Edmund, who read it. It said, "Lucy Pevensie wants to know how Edmund Pevensie is doing. Can he please write her immediately?"

"Lucy called?" Edmund asked in surprise. "Why did she call _this_ office?"

"Apparently she asked her parents whom she might call to inquire about your health," Nurse Joan explained, "and they gave her this number. What she didn't count on was the fact that I might have released you, which almost convinces me I made the wrong choice."

"Well, thank you then," Edmund said. "If that's all, I'll be leaving."

Nurse Joan fixed him with a firm stare; the firmest Edmund had ever seen her give. "You will write your sister, won't you?"

Edmund nodded. "Of course," he muttered before hastily leaving the room. He would try to write Lucy, at least. That didn't mean he would tell her the truth. She would be getting the same answer as Peter.

He had gone to his room to write the letters when, upon opening the door, he found the room occupied. His age group was allowed out until two hours after dinner (approximately nine o'clock), at which point they would have to be in their rooms. Edmund had expected, therefore, to have a little privacy. Although he hated to admit it, he had been avoiding Christopher as well, and seeing his room mate in the room made his heart sink just a little.

Christopher looked up at Edmund's entrance and then back at his work. Edmund sat on his own bed. He glanced at his room mate. Christopher had been concerned with Edmund as of late, and Edmund figured that he had to have an open mind to deal with someone such as himself. After all, Edmund was hardly what one could call normal, even without a curse to deal with. He couldn't tell Peter or Lucy about the curse, and he couldn't tell his parents. They all would panic and make matters worse. But Christopher…he was in such a unique position—not family and not stranger—on the outside of the situation that he could possibly _help_. Edmund hardly dared to hope for it and yet the more he thought the more plausible an idea it seemed.

"Ah—Christopher," Edmund tried. Christopher looked up from his work and Edmund gave a nervous little laugh. "I didn't mean to disturb you. It's…not important…I mean, if you have something to work on."

"It's not due until two weeks," Christopher said coolly. Edmund was sure he was lying but let it slide, so desperate he was for help right now. And if he waited any longer he knew he wouldn't try this again. "Do you finally want to talk about your well-being?"

"It depends," Edmund said. "Do you consider yourself open minded enough to believe something that…might be hard to believe?"

Christopher thought for a moment. "I suppose so. Why? Is this one such thing?"

Ignoring the last question, Edmund took a deep breath and couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He felt more than a little nervous. He was, actually, terrified. He had never told anyone about Narnia save for Professor Kirke, and the Professor did not count (according to Edmund) because he had already been to Narnia. "Do you believe in…er…Magic?"

"Sure," Christopher answered, frowning. He obviously couldn't figure out where Edmund was going with this. For his part, Edmund knew Christopher was at least being truthful, and this made him comfortable enough to begin.

"Well, just hear me out. What I'm about to tell you has much to do with what has been going on," he explained, "and it requires you to believe me, at least, if not believe in those things."

Christopher nodded. "Go on, then," he said. Edmund knew he was genuinely curious and not egging him on in the least and this also put him more at ease, though he was still fearful of the consequences.

"Well, a few years ago, when the War was still going on," Edmund began, "all the children in London were sent to the countryside for safe-keeping due to bombings that were going on."

"Ah, I remember that!" Christopher interjected. "I was sent to my Aunt and Uncle's house. That was interesting."

"Yes," Edmund said with a small smile. "We were sent—we being Peter, Lucy, Susan, and I—to an old Professor's house. Well, my sister Lucy took to exploring the house and to make a long story a bit shorter-"

_Are you sure you want to do that?_ The White Witch's voice inside his head made Edmund pause. Christopher was looking at him expectantly and Edmund faltered, "As I was saying, Lucy…ah…" He was interrupted again.

_He may look like he would understand now, but he'll only think you're insane after you are done. Even _you_ know that._

"Lucy went into this room and found a _wardrobe_," Edmund plowed on rather loudly, determined to ignore the Witch and not let her get in the way of his plans. "She was compelled to open the thing and…and…"

_You don't want the only person you haven't pushed away thinking badly of you, now do you?_ Her voice was so clear and it was nearly enough to make Edmund yell aloud. He did not, though, because he wasn't alone.

_He won't, I know it_, Edmund thought angrily. _Stop it! You're not real and this is not real. I _will_ tell him._

_And then what? What can_ he_ do? He is a mere boy and he can do nothing. All this will do is ruin your friendship with him and you don't want that, do you? _Then she had the audacity to _laugh_. Edmund hated to admit it, but she had a point. What if Christopher did not take the news well at all? What _could_ he do for Edmund? The risk of losing his friend was too great for such an uncertain outcome and Edmund started to feel stupid for even thinking it could help.

_Did you actually think it was that simple?_ the Witch added in an amused voice. Edmund sighed; the sad thing was that he actually did believe it could be that simple a solution. He gritted his teeth and looked up at his room mate, who was frowning at him.

"Edmund?" Christopher asked uncertainly.

"Never mind," Edmund said with perhaps more anger than he meant to. "I mean," he amended, softening his voice, "perhaps this wasn't the greatest idea."

"I'm open-minded," Christopher reminded him. "I won't judge you, if that's what you think. Or do you not think better of me than that?"

"I realized this is something I need to take care of on my own," Edmund told him quietly. "That's all."

"You're not telling the truth," Christopher said, looking slightly frustrated. "Something is truly wrong and I'm really concerned, Edmund. What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," Edmund answered. He decided to change the subject. "I say; I'm tired! I should go to sleep."

Christopher sighed in defeat and turned back to his school work. Edmund changed into his nightclothes and got into bed. Despite Christopher's presence he felt lonely. He really was in this alone. Every time he thought someone could help him, he realized they were helpless in the situation. _As am I_, he added mentally.

_See?_ That terribly familiar voice said to him, _You are beginning to see that _I _am right._

Edmund stifled a frustrated scream not because he could hear the Witch again, but because she _was_ right and it was the worst thing in the world at this point for him to be _wrong_.


	14. Advice

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or the Pevensies, or the White Witch and any other Narnian characters; they are owned by C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

Seeing things that aren't real was not the best way to pass one's days. Edmund knew, at a certain point, that what he was seeing (or hearing) wasn't real, but that still didn't make it any less shocking when he rounded a corner to find Peter bleeding to death or Lucy and Susan being attacked by a Wolf, or Peter in a life-or-death struggle with the Witch herself. It always disturbed him deeply and although he knew it was only an illusion, he couldn't help thinking that perhaps this time would be the first time it _was _real. That was a terrible thought.

It was emotionally draining and made Edmund very jumpy. His nightmares continued and occasionally he'd still feel pain. As a result, he was physically worn out as well. He learned to control his reactions somewhat so that others around him, especially Christopher who watched him very closely for a good while, would not question.

In this fashion the rest of the school year passed and Edmund currently found himself waiting at the mid-station for Lucy and Susan's train to arrive. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. He hadn't written them detailed letters, but he had _written_. The same had been done with Peter as well. Before he had enough time to check his emotions the train pulled in and Edmund stood to try and spot his sisters.

Suddenly something rammed into his middle, knocking him back onto the bench. He caught a brief glimpse of Susan before Lucy moved in front of her, hands on her hips and a furious expression on her face. "I can't believe you!" she cried angrily. "Edmund Pevensie, you liar! We were concerned and did it ever occur to you that we might like to know what was going on? No! You just brushed it aside as if…as if it were _nothing_! And we all know that's not the case. It is…"

"Lucy?" Susan muttered nervously, glancing around the station. "You are making a scene."

"I will make as much of a scene as I want," Lucy snapped. Edmund rarely ever saw her as angry as she was now.

"I wrote you," he tried lamely, knowing as well as she did that his letters were rubbish.

"You collapsed during class!" Lucy snapped. "Yet you gave us no details and resisted treatment-"

"That was so long ago!" Edmund protested. "There was nothing to treat, anyway."

"You have been dodging our more direct questions in favor of utter rot-"

"I'm sure there's a good reason he didn't tell you anything," Susan interjected quickly. "Please, Lucy, can we discuss this later?"

"You look dreadful, to top it all off," Lucy continued across her. "When did you last sleep, or eat for that matter? You look like you've been to war and back! And you can't tell me it's nothing like you have been doing. You know what He said."

"Who is He?" Susan asked sharply.

Lucy rounded on her and glared at her just as their second train pulled up. "And _you_. You should know." With that, she led them onto the train.

Mrs. Pevensie greeted them at the station, and she shared at least part of Lucy's statement. "Edmund, are you alright?" she asked him upon getting a good look at him. "You look unwell."

"He's alright," Lucy said bitterly. "He's always alright." When she offered no reason for this Mrs. Pevensie decided to leave everything alone—some things were better left unasked—and drove them all home. Edmund dreaded it. He would have to see Peter. But as it turned out Peter did not press him for details. He seemed disappointed, which was worse than Lucy's outright anger.

Days passed in which the siblings did not really talk to each other. Their parents, naturally had jobs (well, their Father had a job; Mrs. Pevensie ran errands of various sorts throughout the day). Susan went out with friends. Peter had gotten himself a job at the local library and wasn't around much during the day. Lucy avoided Edmund, which was a first. It wouldn't have mattered if she didn't. He avoided her as well.

On one such day Edmund was sitting alone in his room. Lucy had accompanied Peter to work and the only other person in the house was Susan. He was trying to read a book but kept glancing over to Peter's bed. The fact that they were on less-than-friendly terms bothered him and the fact that it was his own fault bothered him even more. Finally he tossed the book aside.

_Is the special boy upset? _Edmund started slightly at the voice of the Witch, although he was rather used to it now. "Oh, bother," he muttered angrily. "Not now."

_What is it that bothers you? _The Witch seemed to be trying to provoke him. "You!" Edmund snapped. "Now _leave me alone_. This is _your_ fault."

_No,_ the Witch responded, _it is yours._ Edmund sighed. This was true. _Of course, you can mend this whole thing quickly…painlessly, if you like. If you co-operate. _Icy fear crept up on Edmund and made his breath catch in his throat. He didn't like the sound of what was being suggested at all. He didn't know what it was, but he also didn't want to know.

The Witch's voice was so clear, now that he noticed it. This shouldn't have been the case. And the way it affected him…it scared Edmund. "I need to do something," he muttered. "Obviously this _thing_ is going to be a lot harder to ignore than I thought…" Actually, although he hated to admit it, he had not been doing a good job of ignoring the effects of the curse. Some of them just couldn't be ignored, no matter how hard one tried.

Edmund rose from the bed and before he knew what he was doing he found himself in front of Susan's bedroom door. He sighed, "Oh, what am I doing?" and raised his hand. Perhaps Susan could help. She had been the _Gentle_, and was the most logical of all of them. She would keep a cool head once she got past the anger. And, Edmund sort of wanted to drag the Narnian Queen out of his sister. He knocked.

Susan opened the door and said, in a surprised voice, "Edmund?"

"I…er…need to talk with you," Edmund said quietly. "It's about…what Peter and Lucy aren't talking to me about."

"Come in," Susan said slowly. She opened the door wider and allowed him to pass. They sat on Lucy's bed. "Did you do something?"

"I hope not," Edmund answered. "I just can't talk to them about it because they'll both not take the time to think it out. They'll act rashly and you've always been the logical one. The only problem is…" And here he noticed why they were sitting on Lucy's bed—Susan's was piled with boxes. "I say, Susan! What are those doing there?"

Susan started and then glanced behind her. "Oh, the boxes?" Edmund nodded and Susan gave a funny little laugh. "Interesting you should ask, and I'll tell you. But do get on with your story because mine also has a bit of explaining."

"Alright," Edmund hesitated. "I…haven't been well. I'm not sick!" This was added hastily as Susan looked alarmed. "I just…suppose it has to do with something that happened a long time ago and is just coming to light now. You see-"

"What is going on?" Lucy's voice interrupted him and both older siblings looked at her (Edmund had to turn around). She was frowning, her eyes going from Edmund to Susan's bed. "Why are you meeting in here and what are those boxes?"

"You're home early!" Susan said nervously. Edmund's heart sank. They had been interrupted and now he wouldn't get to talk to Susan unless he caught her alone later. He vowed to do so. This was something he felt he needed to do.

"What is going on?" Lucy repeated. Peter came up behind her and Edmund inwardly groaned.

"What's all this about?" he asked, also looking at the boxes.

Susan sighed and blushed. "I'm moving," she said finally.

"WHAT?" all three of her siblings shouted in response, Edmund rounding on his sister.

"I've finished school and, well, I'm not going to University. Mum and Dad said I could move if I got a nice job," Susan explained, "and I have, in London at a nice department store. I'm moving to a flat nearby."

"Susan!" Lucy cried in dismay. "Surely you can't work in a department store for the rest of your life. You _must_ go to University!"

"I have to agree with Lu," Peter said quietly. "It is an extraordinary waste of your talents."

"You are a great diplomat, after all," Edmund added without thinking. "Surely there's a class for that."

Susan's face hardened. "That is no use here," she said shortly. "I won't be working at the same place forever, at any rate. I do like fashion, though. It seems to be a good job. It pays enough. Why can't you all be happy?"

"We don't want you gone!" Lucy said with tears in her eyes.

"Peter already left," Susan said. "It's a part of life, you must know that. You knew this day would come."

"But Peter hasn't moved out yet," Edmund pointed out.

"Perhaps it is something he should consider," Susan said with a pointed look at Peter. "He is, after all, considered an adult."

"Or perhaps you should consider staying," Edmund suggested. The words came out harsher than he'd meant, but he really was angry at Susan. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he needed her just now, but it also had to do with the fact that she was almost…running from them, from her past. Guiltily, Edmund realized he was doing the same thing with Peter and Lucy—avoiding them. But Susan, always logical _Susan_, should have known that she was still needed.

Almost as though reading his mind, Susan snapped, "Perhaps _you_ should stop avoiding everyone."

Edmund opened his mouth and could think of no reply. Instead he muttered, "At least I'm not moving."

Lucy added, "You've both been strangers, really. All I want, and I'm sure Peter wants it too, is for us to be close again. Remember those good days when we all used to? Especially in Narnia?" She looked defiant at the mention of their old home because she knew, as they all did, that Susan was avoiding Narnia.

"Narnia was when we were children," Susan said sharply, "and now we should have grown up. Stop going back to that-that game."

"Game?" Lucy repeated. "You're leaving as if everything is alright and it isn't! You think we're silly because Narnia is a game. Susan!" With that she fled from the room.

"I think," Peter said slowly, "that is enough growing up for one day. Do what you like, Susan, but know that we won't be happy with this until you fix things." Here, Peter also shot a significant look at Edmund as though to say that he too should take this advice.

Edmund looked at his sister and saw she was nearly crying. He could, to a certain extent, understand her. He sighed and wasn't sure what to do. He moved to hug her but she moved away, wiping a stray tear, and he saw part of himself in her movements. "Just…go with the others," she murmured, the words sounding so familiar he wanted to scream.

Instead he said, "I'm sorry, Su." Then he exited the room and felt the full force of what had just happened come upon him. His plan was ruined. Edmund could no longer count on his logical sister to help with his current problem, or any, really. She was leaving. But worse was that Susan had let go of the Gentle Queen within her and of Narnia. She wanted nothing to do with it.

"Back to square one," he hissed angrily, kicking the wall. A high, cold, cruel chuckle sounded and Edmund knew the Witch was immensely satisfied with the current situation. It made him feel only more frustrated.


	15. Separation

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Narnia, or the White Witch. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

After Susan revealed her plans to move the mood in the Pevensie household became very tense. Edmund thought he would have liked the distraction, but in light of everything else the news actually made him feel worse. Had Susan still believed in Narnia, it might not have been so bad. The fact that she didn't, and that he would never be able to talk to her about what was going on, just rubbed salt on the wound.

The only one more upset than Edmund was Lucy and he wished it was different. Not one of the Pevensies liked seeing her upset because it took a lot to make her feel that way. Usually she was the one who saw the bright side of things, but even she seemed to find nothing good about Susan's departure. As a result the rest of the family was low in spirits, including their parents.

The day for Susan to move came. Susan had been what Lucy called "gradually moving"—their parents had been taking her things over to the new flat downtown. Her real move, therefore, saw her only taking one suitcase with her and not needing assistance from anyone else. The Pevensies gathered around the door to see her off.

"Are you sure about this?" Peter asked, looking hard into her eyes. Edmund swallowed. She was really leaving.

"I'm sure," Susan said as if she had never been surer of anything.

"We'll miss you," Lucy said quietly, her eyes shining with tears. Edmund did something he hadn't done in awhile; he put a comforting hand on Lucy's shoulder. He half expected her to ignore it, what with how he had been acting lately. To his great surprise she took his hand in a gesture of gratefulness.

"Be careful," Edmund added.

"I will," Susan said. She laughed nervously.

"We just want to be sure this is what you want," Mrs. Pevensie said, and Mr. Pevensie nodded sternly.

"It's never easy to see one's children grow up," he added, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Pevensie hugged her oldest daughter and when she pulled away, tears glistened on her cheeks.

Susan seemed to be working very hard not to cry. She wasn't the only one.

Lucy burst into tears and suddenly rushed forward. "I'm going to miss you!" she cried out. "I can't believe you're leaving, Susan. Why can't you stay?" Her voice was slightly muffled as her face was buried into Susan's shoulder.

"I can't stay here forever," Susan answered, her voice breaking slightly as she struggled not to cry. Edmund heard Peter's breathing grow unsteady and felt a burning sensation in his eyes.

"No," Lucy agreed, "but you can stay here _longer_."

"It wouldn't do me any good," Susan said, stroking her hair. "I'm going to miss you as well, Lucy." She then looked up at the rest of her family. "All of you."

"My little girl," Mrs. Pevensie breathed. They stood there for a moment, very awkwardly, before Lucy finally pulled away and muttered a very reluctant goodbye. Peter stepped forward to hug her and did the same, followed by their parents.

Last, Edmund hugged his sister, though a bit stiffly. He didn't want to cry, not in front of her, but he did relent to his emotions a little and hugged her more tightly. "Be careful, alright," he said to her. "Especially when it comes to those guys you like to date so much. I wouldn't want…" Here his voice broke a bit, but he continued, "Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"If you do," Peter added, "Don't hesitate to call. I, for one, will not mind taking care of the situation, should such a situation arise. That said, I second Edmund's statement." His voice was watery and he was also crying, though not nearly as much as Lucy and their Mother.

"I will," Susan said. She smiled slightly at them, but a small tear managed to escape. "I love you." Edmund could tell she really meant it. For a moment she truly looked like the Gentle Queen who had ruled Narnia, the Susan he knew so well.

Then she walked out the door and Edmund's heart sank. Lucy said something about helping to make dinner and Peter sighed and walked into the living room. Edmund felt suddenly exhausted and went up to his room, where it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

_Susan, dressed crisply in a white blouse and black pencil skirt with her hair done to perfection, was walking down the street. It was dark and Edmund wondered at the fact that no one else was around. He followed her and then got the sudden urge to call out to her. "Susan!" he called. "It's me, Edmund!"_

_Susan turned and looked straight at him. But as Edmund met her gaze he realized she wasn't looking at him so much as _through_ him. She couldn't see him at all. Slowly onto her face crept an odd expression, which at first Edmund took for surprise, then for terror. _

_Edmund turned and saw the familiar form of the White Witch walking towards them, slowly and looking deadly calm. She carried a dagger in one hand and her wand in another. Edmund stared for a few seconds before he was able to actually do something. As she came nearer he choked out, "Susan, be careful!"_

_He glanced back at his sister and saw she was slowly backing away, but something about the Witch made her not able to run. Edmund followed her gaze—she was staring at the wand. Edmund frowned. The wand had been destroyed. What was this? _

"_She cannot hear you," the Witch told him, almost mockingly._

"_Leave her alone," Edmund said. "She hasn't done anything to you."_

"_Since when has that mattered?" the Witch asked. She continued to move forward until she was next to him. "I shall do as I please, and you will not prevent me. After all, here you are powerless in every sense of the word." She gripped his shoulders with an iron like strength and forced him around so that he was facing Susan. Then she let go and began walking towards her. Susan had now stopped._

"_Run!" Edmund's voice tore from his throat and he made to run forward, but his body wouldn't move. He felt unbearably cold, so cold that he was numb, and no matter how much he tried to move his body would not listen. It stayed rooted in place. "Susan, listen! Run!" _

_Susan did not run and she did not listen. She seemed to be incapable of either. Edmund watched as the Witch stood next to her and grabbed her shoulders, causing her to become pale. "Look," she whispered into Susan's ear. "See your brother, over there? I would have left you alone, had it not been for him. Look at the reason for your suffering." Edmund felt a burning sensation in his chest, one of frustration. Susan looked and her eyes widened._

"_Edmund?" she whispered in shock.  
_

"Now_ you can see me!" Edmund cried, more from disappointment and anger than anything else. "Susan, I am so, so sorry…I shouldn't have let you leave."_

"_That was my choice," Susan said, her voice strong despite the Witch's grip on her shoulders. _

"_I'm sorry," Edmund repeated. _

_The Witch let out a high, cold laugh. "You should be," she said and without hesitation plunged the dagger she carried straight into Susan's heart._

_Edmund again tried to lunge forward but he was frozen to the spot, most likely the doing of the Witch. Susan clutched her chest as the Witch pulled out the dagger, shining with blood. Susan crumpled to the ground and Edmund gasped. Suddenly he found he could step forward and without any hesitation lunged at the Witch. She grabbed his wrist and twisted his whole arm until he was on the ground next to Susan. The tip of her wand pointed at his chest. _

"_It is too late for apologies," the Witch hissed. "You have lost, Edmund. Admit defeat and I promise to make the end quick."_

_Edmund turned his head a little to the side and saw that Susan's eyes were closed and she was not breathing. She was dead. He turned back to the Witch, an unbearable sadness coming over him. Then there was anger, anger at her and at himself. "It's not over!" he snarled, moving to get up. _

_The Witch let out a snarl of her own. "So be it." She thrust the tip of her wand into Edmund's chest, a freezing sensation emanating from the point of contact. His only reaction was to yell as everything faded from view. _

"Edmund!" Lucy shook her older brother roughly awake. Edmund groaned and sat up, blinking furiously against his tiredness.

"Is he alright?" Peter asked, sounding farther away. Edmund opened his eyes to find Peter standing by the doorway and Lucy on his bed next to him, both looking concerned.

"What are you talking about?" Edmund asked. He realized he was shaking a bit and he tried to push the visions from his dream to the back of his mind.

"Why, you were yelling in your sleep," Lucy said. "We came up here to see what was wrong and then I decided to wake you. It must have been a terrible dream."

Edmund sighed. He hated that his dreams caused him to yell or scream aloud, especially when his siblings were nearby. Worse, it caused them to worry. "I'm alright," he said shortly. "I just…"

"It's Susan, isn't it?" Peter asked, crossing the room and taking his place on Edmund's bed.

Edmund reluctantly nodded, although he was glad Peter wasn't trying to broach the subject of It again. "I just can't believe she'd leave," he said. "And yet she's gone. I just don't want anything to happen to her." His dream came to mind again and he shuddered.

"Nothing will," Peter reassured him, putting a strong hand on his shoulder. "And if it does, she has us. And for now, we have each other."

"You can't forget that, you know," Lucy added, "Much as I think you want to at times. We've always been close and we are a family, and as such we're always here to help each other."

Edmund shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't been thinking that way as of late and he knew this was why Lucy was talking to him about this. "I haven't forgotten," he said. "Sometimes one needs to settle things on one's own, is all. We all need to fight our own battles."

"True enough," Peter agreed. He knew enough about battles of any kind to know this was true. "But it's also our job to make sure you do alright and don't lose the fight, whatever it may be. Sometimes you can't go it alone. Didn't you used to tell me that?"

"I did," Edmund admitted grudgingly.

"That's why we've got to stick together," Peter continued, "especially now, when things aren't particularly easy." With this statement he stood up. "I should see if Mum needs help setting the table." He left the room.

Lucy looked at Edmund carefully for a moment. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Rather than getting annoyed with her, Edmund felt curiously strengthened by her presence. She made him feel better. "I'm alright," he said.

Lucy smiled sadly, for this was always Edmund's answer. "Well, just in case you are not and you're just saying you are, I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk to us or even just be with us, know we're always here." She paused a second to regain her breath and then plunged on, rather quickly, "After all, I know you and Peter are all for being strong and solving your problems on your own, but there is a reason why Aslan entrusted the _Four_ of us to rule Narnia. He knew we couldn't do it alone and we still can't. We need each other. I know I need you guys. I might not be making any sense, but it is something for you to consider. I might just make the same speech to Peter later." Edmund knew she would do nothing of the sort as she smiled tentatively at him and left the room. He knew the speech was meant for him and was something she hoped would affect him.

"Unfortunately, I'm _supposed_ to go about this alone," he said to himself. _But surely that doesn't mean you can't accept help_, he could almost hear Lucy saying. She would have said such a thing if she was in the room. He had already been over this, though. They _couldn't_ help him.

Still, something like guilt kept pricking at his conscience, so he finally told himself, "I'll consider it." He then stood up to see if Peter and his Mother needed any help in the kitchen.


	16. Open Doors

**Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis owns the Pevensies, Narnia, and any other characters from his books.**

* * *

"Lucy, would you mind telling your brother dinner will be ready in a few minutes?" Mrs. Pevensie asked her daughter.

Lucy nodded and stood up. Their Father was still at work, so he wasn't present in the kitchen. Her Mother was referring to Edmund, of course, since Peter was sitting directly across from her. Ever since Susan left Edmund had talked to the two of them a bit more than he had in past months, but there would be odd times when he went off by himself and wouldn't want to be bothered. He still hadn't told them exactly what was going on, but both Lucy and Peter knew they couldn't force the answer out of him. Edmund did not work well that way. He would have to tell them on his own time.

This was a painful thing for both Lucy and Peter (especially Peter, the least patient of the two) to accept, but they were doing well. They stopped asking as to whether Edmund was fine, and he seemed to spend a little more time with them. Admittedly, while the three were together they talked of nothing important. At least they were _together_, though. Lucy smiled at this as she headed up the stairs. Perhaps things would continue to improve between them all. Perhaps whatever Aslan warned them about had passed.

Lucy quietly walked down the hallway, so much so that her footfalls could barely be heard. The door to her brothers' room was slightly ajar and she put her hand on it to push it open, but what she saw through the crack made her pause.

Edmund was lying on his bed, his back to her. He was curled into a ball and at first Lucy thought he was asleep. She was debating whether or not to wake him when he groaned. Figuring he was having a nightmare, Lucy put more pressure on the door and pushed it a little. Then he gave a louder groan and muttered, "Lion's mane…" His voice didn't sound groggy with sleep but awake, yet laced with pain. She had rarely heard him sound like that. In Narnia he had once in her presence after having received a grave injury during a battle (he and Peter had many war stories), but that was it.

She wondered whether to ask if he was alright as her heart constricted in fear. She heard him gasping and he let out a stifled scream, something that wouldn't have been heard from downstairs. Then he twitched as though trying to rid himself of the pain. Lucy tried to figure out a source and came up with nothing. The next thing she heard disturbed her greatly; Edmund was crying. Not hard or loudly, but softly. Almost whimpering. She cringed.

_Edmund _never_ cries_, Lucy thought. She felt herself start to shake and her eyes burned with tears for her brother. She hated to see him in so much pain. She wanted to go comfort him, to help him, but she also knew she wasn't meant to know of this. She remembered how he had nearly been sent to the hospital earlier in the year. With a jolt Lucy wondered whether the pain was a recurring event.

Edmund gasped again and Lucy backed away from the door and quietly slipped into her room, sinking down on the bed. Suddenly everything seemed to have gotten worse rather than better. _And just when things were starting to work out! _Frustrated, Lucy threw one of her pillows against the wall. _Why is Edmund so bloody stubborn? Why can't he just tell us what's going on?_ She sighed and looked over at the empty bed by the window. Susan could be hard headed as well, but never like this.

Standing, she remembered that she had to tell Edmund dinner would be ready. She exited the room and, without looking, knocked on the opposite door. Edmund's strained voice came from his bed, "Yes?" She could tell he was trying to sound as normal as possible. She did not open the door all the way.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes," Lucy told him, trying to keep her voice light and steady. "You should start washing up."

"Okay." There was a pause. "I'll…be down soon." His voice shook a little with the last sentence. Lucy grappled with asking whether he was alright and thought better of it. He would only get angry and defensive. Resigning herself to this, she made her way to the table.

"Is Ed coming down?" Peter asked upon her arrival.

"Hopefully," Lucy answered. Her voice was casual but her eyes conveyed great meaning as she said to Peter, "I need to talk to you later."

Peter nodded, having caught the look she was giving him.

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Pevensie asked as she set the food on the table.

"Fine," Lucy said with a small smile. "Edmund was just…asleep." Of course, both she and Peter knew this wasn't true.

Presently Edmund appeared in the kitchen, his face very pale and his eyes slightly red. "Are you feeling alright?" Mrs. Pevensie asked him quietly, looking very concerned.

"Yes," he said, taking a seat rather quickly. "I was just asleep. I was a bit tired."

Peter and Lucy exchanged looks and Edmund frowned at them. Wisely, none of the three said a word about the incident all through dinner and instead talked of dull things, like school, and of Susan.

"Speaking of Susan, she wants you all to visit tomorrow," Mrs. Pevensie said happily. "I told her that Edmund has a doctor's appointment for his yearly exam but you other two would be able to go. Is that alright? I'll take you."

All three siblings looked surprised. "That sounds like a plan," Peter finally said. "I have been curious as to where my sister has taken up residence." Lucy smiled and Edmund frowned. He seemed to have wanted to go, but was assured that he could go another time.

Later Peter and Lucy found themselves in Lucy's room. Lucy told him what she had witnessed and as she did so, she saw his face darken and he actually stood as though to go talk to Edmund, but she immediately grabbed his arm. "Sit down!" she said quietly. "You know trying to force it out of him will do no good. We need to have_ him_ tell _us_. I just don't know how to do it…"

"Well, I promise you and even Edmund (though he isn't here) that I will get to the bottom of this," Peter stated firmly. "I am not just going to let us sit by while Edmund suffers from who knows what!"

"I don't want to either," Lucy said, biting her lip. The two sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments and then it hit her. "Susan!"

"Pardon?" Peter asked. "I don't see how our sister has anything to do with this."

"She doesn't," Lucy agreed, "but she used to be great at this sort of thing in Narnia. She could always get us to admit our problems to her and even make things better. We'll be seeing her tomorrow, so we should just ask her how to go about it."

Peter smiled a bit. "Spectacular idea, Lu!" he said. "We'll just have to be very vague and not tell her the whole Aslan bit. She won't like to hear anything of Narnia and it'll make her not tell us anything." Lucy nodded and suddenly found herself anticipating her visit to Susan more than ever.

* * *

Susan's apartment was very well organized with not a thing out of place. The color scheme was simple—a white carpet ("I suppose that means there's a 'shoes off' policy," Peter remarked.) and navy blue furniture. It vaguely reminded Lucy of the ocean and perhaps that was what Susan wanted. Susan had been a great swimmer…when she cared about swimming.

The three sat around at the kitchen table. The apartment was rather small but nice for a single person, such as Susan, to be living in. There was tea and biscuits and for a second Lucy thought this was rather formal. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments and then Susan broke it by saying, "It's a shame Edmund couldn't come. I miss him."

"And he misses you," Lucy said, seeing her opportunity. "Speaking of Edmund, we need your help, and seeing as it has to do with him it really is fortunate he isn't here with us today."

Susan looked curious. "Oh? What with?" she asked. "I hope he's gotten better. I noticed he's been off this year, and that near trip to the hospital is a sure sign that everything's not well. How is he?"

"Not well," Peter admitted. "At least, he acts well but we know something's bothering him. He just won't tell us. And it's a shame because Lucy and I want to help him, but being the stubborn person that he is…"

"We just can't sit back and watch him suffer from things that we have yet to find out about," Lucy said. "We really want to know but of course he won't tell us, so we were wondering if you could tell us how to get him to tell us. You see, you're really good at that type of thing." Truthfully, Susan hadn't done that type of thing in awhile now, but Lucy knew it was still a part of her.

Susan nodded thoughtfully and sipped at her tea. "Well, of course you can't use force," she said. "Edmund never responds to that type of thing. He has to respond on his own terms."

"We figured as much," Peter said. "We just don't know how to act from there."

"You can't get angry," Susan told them. "You must be patient and…and gentle." Here Peter and Lucy exchanged the briefest of looks. There _was_ still a Narnian Queen in their sister somewhere. "You have to be there for him, and let him know that, but don't be overbearing or be constantly asking what is wrong, or how he is. He hates being fussed over. He'll come to you when he's ready and when he knows you're available, but not if he feels forced in any way. Nor if he feels that you're angry at him."

"So we have to wait," Peter concluded. "We have to wait until he feels he needs to tell us. Su, you know as well as I do that he might never tell us."

"Are you sure everything's alright?" she asked the both of them with a concerned look.

"Fine," Lucy replied quickly. She found that she was beginning to sound like Edmund, replying that everything was 'fine' even when it wasn't. She hoped the habit would die soon…for both of them.

As they left to meet their Mother outside Peter said, "I still can't stand the fact that he was in actual _pain_. I really want to ask him. I want to know what's going on."

"You and I both," Lucy agreed. "But we've already tried asking and all it's done is gotten all of us upset. He wouldn't tell us that way. There's nothing for it but to follow Susan's advice."

"I still might like to chat with him, though," Peter muttered as they exited the building and headed towards their Mother's car.

Unfortunately, Peter soon became busied with packing to leave for University. He had forgotten about this as he and Lucy had been pre-occupied with their brother. This meant that he had no time to effectively track Edmund down and sit down to talk with him. Not that Edmund would let him. He spent time with Lucy but seemed to know that Peter had some business with him and so avoided him.

It was slightly disappointing to Lucy when Peter went off to University again without having talked to Edmund. Of course she wanted to stick with Susan's plan, but wanting to actively do something made her hope that Peter would be able to get something out of Edmund (though she never told him). After Peter left she tried to look on the bright side and told herself that this was better because it followed Susan's plan more closely. Still, they hadn't gotten anything out of their stubborn brother. School was going to start and Lucy had the sinking feeling that they had done nothing to help Edmund.

Though Lucy didn't like to think about it, she also had the horrid feeling that if they didn't help him, terrible things would happen.


	17. Nothing

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, the Pevensies, or the White Witch. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

"Now I really have no one to ride the train with," Lucy remarked as she and Edmund stood at the mid-station, waiting for their different trains to take them back to school once again. "I can't believe we're the only two going back."

"Neither can I," Edmund agreed, looking a ways down the tracks for one of the trains. Lucy's was due to come first.

"Well, if Susan and Peter get to be happy we should be as well," Lucy decided. She even looked determined. Edmund nearly laughed. "I mean, we will be out of school soon and then we'll be able to do what they're doing."

"What, go to school again?" Edmund asked. Lucy frowned at him.

"No. Be more like adults."

"Oh…" Edmund sighed and glanced around the station. No one was standing close by, but there were plenty of people about. "Like in Narnia?"

Lucy grinned at him and lowered her voice. "Exactly. I've been waiting for this forever and now that Peter gets to be an adult in this world it makes me want it even more. Although…" She bit her lip. "I've been told by Mum that we should enjoy our time as 'children' as long as we can."

"I highly doubt being an adult here will be nearly as great as being one in Narnia," Edmund observed. "Although it will be better than being considered a child. I have never had a more infuriating experience than when we came back the first time."

The sound of a train came from the distance and Lucy looked like she really didn't want to leave. "It wasn't a very nice experience," she said, "but imagine if we had stayed in Narnia our whole lives! What would have happened?"

"I've no idea," Edmund said truthfully. He had often wondered about it and he was sure his older siblings had too. Yet he also remembered what Aslan constantly told them: no one was ever told what would have happened. No matter how much he thought of it, he knew he had to be content with what had happened and not dwell on the 'what if's'.

The train pulled in and Lucy picked up her trunk. She turned to Edmund and he noticed that she looked as if she might cry. He didn't want her to. He disliked when people cried around him because he never knew what to do. He disliked himself crying as well. Quickly he said, "It's going to be a good year, Lu," although he wasn't so sure about this. It wasn't as if…It…had gone away. But he needed to say this for her sake.

"I sure hope so," Lucy said, "because last year wasn't that pleasant." She stepped forward and hugged him tightly. He noticed just how tall she had gotten, her head just level with his chin. She was growing up. Edmund remembered the last time they had done this in Narnia, when Lucy had been about the same age. The only difference was that they weren't in Cair Paravel, nor were they in royal clothing.

Edmund said the same thing he told her then: "You're growing into a lovely young woman, you know."

Lucy grinned up at him, same as she had in Narnia, and for a second the station disappeared and they really were standing on a balcony in Cair Paravel, overlooking the beach. For the first time in awhile Edmund smiled a genuine smile as Lucy said, "Why, thank you. And you are growing into a fine young man." There was some humor in her voice and Edmund hugged her tighter. For some reason he found he did not want to leave her.

Still, he knew they weren't in Narnia. The train reappeared as did the people of the station and his smile faded. "We'll see each other soon," he said. "Have a good time at school."

"You as well," Lucy returned. "And…" She looked very hesitant as she pulled away from him. "Please, if you ever need to talk, just write me. And be careful." With those words she turned and boarded the train.

As the train pulled away Edmund wished he was on it. A part of him had wished he could tell Lucy the whole truth just then. The timing couldn't have been worse, just as she was leaving. The opportunity was gone.

"There's no sense in thinking about it," he muttered to himself as he sat down on a bench to wait for his own train back to school.

* * *

Anyone who didn't know Edmund well like his siblings did would assume that he had a normal first few weeks of school. For Edmund they were anything but, and he almost found himself wishing he was back home. The periods of pain became more frequent, though thankfully he managed to endure any that occurred during class as he became used to it. It was always worse at night, sometimes accompanied by nightmares or visions. Christopher alone seemed to think something was wrong with him. One time he suggested Edmund go to the Nurse. Edmund brushed it all off.

As September became October and the air became more brisk, Edmund found himself studying in his room rather than outside more often. On this particular day it was raining and he was just coming from his last class. An episode of pain had overcome him near the end and he was trying to get to his room as fast as possible. He wasn't willing to show weakness in front of the other students and he usually felt better if the episodes passed while he was laying down.

He opened the door to his room and found that Christopher was inside, sitting on his bed. Edmund paid him no large amount of attention as he crossed the room and lay down on his bed. He closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists as the amount of pain increased and he braced himself.

"_How are you feeling_?" Edmund tensed as the mocking voice of the White Witch reached his ears. _I don't need this now_, he thought angrily.

The pain lessened a little and he sat up. Christopher was staring at him. Edmund would have said something had it not been for the odd look in his friend's eyes; they looked almost black and familiar, but in a horrible way. Christopher had gray eyes and Edmund realized that these were not his eyes at all.

"Christopher?" he asked tentatively. A small smirk seemed to form on Christopher's lips and his face took on an expression very uncharacteristic for him.

"_I see you're better_," the White Witch observed and Edmund gasped. It looked as if Christopher was speaking but _Her_ voice was coming out of his mouth.

"You've possessed him!" Edmund cried.

"_I'm glad we understand each other_," the Witch said, and it disturbed Edmund more than anything that this was his friend she was using. He didn't know what to do.

"Give him back!" Edmund yelled. "I will not stand for this." He stood and reached into his pocket, drawing out a pocket knife. "Leave before I do something _you_ will regret."

The Witch's high laugh pierced the room and she said, "_So you're willing to hurt your friend just to get to me? You do realize that whatever happens to him doesn't affect me in the slightest_." Here, Christopher stood and drew a small knife out of his own pocket. Edmund gasped, though he couldn't say he was surprised; most boys his age carried around pocket knives. He was shocked that the Witch would be doing this. "_However_," Christopher's lips curled, "_what I do to you has great affect_." He twirled the knife.

"I can't believe this," Edmund muttered. He didn't know whether to put his knife away or keep it out. He didn't want to hurt Christopher, but if he was attacked would he have a choice? He was trying to sort this out when Christopher lunged and Edmund deflected a blow with his knife.

Knife fighting was different than sword fighting and truthfully, Lucy was best at it. It was very dangerous, especially when the other person wasn't even aware they were fighting. Edmund did his best not to hurt his friend and got cut several times in return. None of the cuts were deep, but they were painful, and he wanted the fight to end. Somehow the Witch maneuvered Christopher so that he cornered Edmund. Rather than attacking with a knife Edmund kicked out—and missed. He looked up and saw the White Witch's eyes staring back and shuddered. His face was cruel and twisted and looked ready to hurt, to kill. Edmund closed his eyes as Christopher lunged again and the Witch's laughter rang out in his ears, mocking him. He blindly kicked out and his foot connected with nothing and then he opened his eyes.

Christopher was asleep on the opposite bed. Edmund, breathing hard, stood slowly and put away his knife. He still was bruised and a bit cut up from the fight, yet Christopher looked unchanged. He did still have a bruise on his face from where Edmund hit him, though, and that made Edmund feel sick. It was a sign that the fight had not been just a vision, but had actually happened. Involuntarily, he started to shake.

Then the thing he hadn't wanted to happen did happen; Christopher started to stir. Edmund suppressed a gasp, his hand reaching for his pocket. Christopher sat up and groaned. Then he looked at Edmund.

Edmund nearly let out a sigh of relief. Christopher's eyes were mercifully normal and he looked confused. "Why do I feel like I just got into a brawl?" he asked in a groggy voice.

"I have no idea," Edmund said, trying to sound just as confused. "You were asleep when I got here."

"You're bruised," Christopher observed, "and so am I, come to think of it." He touched his face lightly and winced a little. "What _happened_? I don't remember anything since I came in the room."

"You must have been pretty tired," Edmund suggested.

"No." Christopher stood up and took a closer look at Edmund. "Something happened. We're both bruised, like I said before, and I wasn't tired before I came in here. In fact, I wanted to study and…you are shaking."

So he was. But Edmund didn't acknowledge it. Instead he said, "You might not have realized how tired you were. That's the worst. And as for me, I was…" His voice trailed off as a metallic object on the bed caught his attention. Christopher's knife. It had his blood on it.

"You were?" Christopher prodded him.

"Ah, I was in a fight," Edmund said, which was true. "Before I got here, anyway. Listen, how about you go wash up. I think it's nearly time for dinner."

"This is strange," Christopher muttered, giving him a long look before retreating to the bathroom.

Edmund took the knife and cleaned it on his sweater. He felt terrified now, though he would never show Christopher just how scared he was. His friend had been possessed. It hadn't been a dream, or a vision, but it had been _real_. He shuddered as he thought of the seriousness of the situation. Someone other than himself was being dragged into this. Someone could have been hurt, and it would have been _his_ fault.

_You have to tell Lucy_, a voice in his head said. Edmund brushed it away. Everything had turned out alright and he didn't feel like thinking too much on the incident. He knew it was serious and he knew this wasn't good at all, but he was torn between taking action and sticking to his plan of ignoring It.

"Nothing," he tried to remind in himself, but his conscience nearly drowned this out by telling him he needed to do something, _anything_, and that this could be ignored no longer. Christopher had been really and truly possessed. Edmund sat on the bed, trying to come to terms with all of these emotions.

"Nothing," Edmund whispered, but it came out sounding weaker than ever.

_Eventually_, his conscience told him, _you're going to need to tell them._

"Later rather than sooner," Edmund muttered. Then Christopher came back into the room and he stopped thinking about it.


	18. Sickness

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Narnia, or the White Witch. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

_Listen._

"No," Edmund hissed under his breath. This being the same answer he had given to the same command several times during the same day.

_You can not ignore me forever._

Edmund gritted his teeth as the Witch's voice continued to get on his nerves. _Watch me_, he thought vehemently. Still, this did not deter her.

_You are weak. You _will_ give in._

Sighing, Edmund looked around. He wanted this to stop and he couldn't think of anything to do. He tried his best to ignore it. Ever since Christopher had been possessed, Edmund found he constantly heard the White Witch's voice trying to convince him to give in. He always refused and went on with his day, but it didn't help that accompanying her voice were visions. He was tired of it.

As the history teacher droned on about something Edmund wasn't really interested in, he put his head on the desk. Being in the back of the room, this movement went by unnoticed. If he could get some rest, even if it was in class, then he might be better able to deal with everything. His eyes closed and he felt lightweight, as though he was drifting…

He shot up a few minutes later, breathing heavily and fighting a strong urge to scream. It had been a nightmare. He didn't remember exactly what had happened or what it was about, but he knew he would hate to have it again. Edmund also realized he was shaking and, glancing at the clock, that he had been asleep a grand total of ten minutes. Class was nearly over. Thankfully, no one had noticed.

_Surely you will listen now. I will not give you rest until you agree. _

This wasn't going to be easy. _Then I won't rest,_ Edmund replied, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. The teacher glanced his way and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Edmund breathed a sigh of relief. _I'm not going to listen to you. _

Laughter filled his ears. The Witch sounded thoroughly amused when she said, _You have no choice. You will listen to what I have to say. Until you do, you shall suffer greatly._

The groan Edmund let slip was audible enough so that his teacher asked, "Is there a problem?"

"No," Edmund answered and winced as a sharp pain coursed through his chest.

He couldn't have been happier when class was over.

He rushed out of the room and into the hallway, hoping to find some solitude so that he might sit and think before his next class began. He rushed outside into the cool autumn air and found himself face-to-face with the Witch.

"I don't think you understand me," she said, her lips twitching in anger. "You really don't have a choice in the matter. You _will_ listen to me and you _will_ do what I say."

Others were milling about outside. Edmund noticed that they didn't seem to see the Witch. He said, in a low voice, "If I had no choice, why haven't you told me what you want to tell me already? Why do you keep telling me to listen?"

"You have no idea what you're up against," the Witch snarled, looking positively livid, as though what Edmund had said was something of a sensitive issue. As soon as she said this, pain shot through Edmund's entire body and he cringed, but he held his ground.

"I defeated you and your magic once," Edmund told her. "Who says I won't do it again?"

"You had help. You had your brother, your sisters, and Aslan. I have noticed something interesting, however," the Witch sneered. "Where are they now? They are not here. They can not help you. Alone, you never would have defeated me."

"You don't know that," Edmund said, trying to keep calm. He was really caught off-guard. The Witch had voiced the doubts he had that kept him from seeking help.

"You were weak when you came into Narnia," the Witch said, "and you still are now. Only now there is no lion to help you and no big brother to care about you."

"You're wrong!" Edmund snapped, louder than he intended, so that a few students looked up at him. He was past noticing them, however, and continued to glare at the Witch. (To the surrounding students it looked as though he was glaring angrily at a tree as though it were the most evil thing in the world.)

"You know I've proven you wrong once before, when you tried to seek the help of your friend and your sister," the Witch told him. "You just don't know when to give up." The pain coursed through his body again and became so sharp that he sank to the grass, stunned. Then it dulled, but was still uncomfortable.

"I'm not going to," he said shakily, trying to push aside the pain and failing.

"Then it becomes worse until you do," the Witch said shortly and she disappeared. Edmund felt as though his bones were on fire and he stifled a scream, releasing instead a low groan. He was flat on the grass and at the moment didn't care whether anyone was staring at him. (Luckily for him, no one noticed this as they had noticed his outburst.) He continued to lay there, wanting nothing more than to drop off into a dreamless, painless, and long sleep.

* * *

To his absolute horror, Edmund found a few days later that he felt sick. _This is just my luck_, he thought angrily as he walked from his last class to his room. His head ached and his limbs felt impossibly heavy. He could have fallen asleep walking. He managed to make his way to the room and into his bed, where he then tried to fall asleep.

Despite his exhaustion he couldn't. His eyes snapped open and he sighed in frustration. Then he closed them again and something odd happened. His nightmares started playing in full-force. Peter was fighting the White Witch, Lucy was dying, Susan was being attacked, and he couldn't do anything for any of them. He opened his eyes and gasped—none of these things disappeared but instead continued. The room he was in was not visible. This terrified him beyond anything he had experienced thus far.

Edmund closed his eyes again in hopes of escape. Nothing changed. He tried again and this time the Witch started laughing at him. Pain coursed through his veins, causing him to feel as though he was on fire. He tossed and turned in a futile effort to get everything to _stop_. Yet the visions kept playing on, not changing if he opened or closed his eyes. The pain continued to wrack his body. The fever made him feel terribly hot and impossibly cold all at once. The Witch continued to laugh and he felt all rational thoughts slip his mind as everything else took over. And then she spoke:

_I warned you to listen to me._

Feeling utterly trapped and lost, Edmund screamed.

* * *

Christopher, contrary to his usual schedule, did not go to his room after his last class. He went to the library instead to study and then straight to dinner. He noticed that Edmund was not there and debated taking something up to him. He decided on taking some bread and headed up to the room, hoping that Edmund was all right and that his missing dinner was the result of something small, like studying.

Just as he reached the door Christopher heard an anguished scream, muffled only by the wall between them. He pushed open the door hurriedly and ran into the room, stopping short when he registered his surroundings. Edmund was tossing about in his bed, entangled in the blankets, his eyes half closed and an expression of pain and terror on his face. He screamed again and Christopher rushed over to his side, putting a firm hand on his shoulder to try and stop him from moving.

"Edmund!" It was then he realized he didn't know whether Edmund was asleep or awake. He decided Edmund was asleep and proceeded to shake him roughly. "Edmund, wake _up_!"

Edmund suddenly stopped moving, allowing for Christopher to get a closer look. He noticed that Edmund was pale and his hair was matted with sweat. He put a hand to Edmund's forehead and frowned; it was very hot. "You've got a fever," he murmured, "and I know you're going to kill me later for this, but…" He stood up while pulling Edmund's arms, bringing him up as well.

"Christopher!" Edmund gasped, his eyes snapping open. He grabbed the other boy's shoulders in a tight grip, startling him. "I can't leave!"

"You can't—what?" Christopher did not know whether he was talking about leaving the school or something else. He had planned on taking Edmund to the Nurse but…how would Edmund know that?

"I can't…it won't stop! I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Edmund cried, nearly incoherently. "I've lied! There's something…something serious….I need to tell you!"

"I think…you need to see the Nurse," Christopher said after a pause. Edmund seemed irrational at the moment, most likely due to his illness…and yet just as he said those words Christopher also found that he wanted to know what was so serious that Edmund wanted to tell him.

"I can't see her," Edmund told him desperately. "It's nothing…it's nothing…"

"You just told me it was serious!" Christopher cried, feeling utterly lost with the whole situation. He wanted to help Edmund but he didn't even know what was going on.

Edmund seemed to struggle with something. His eyes were unfocused and had a far-away look about them. He took a deep breath, presumably to say something, then closed his mouth and shook his head. Then he tried again, "Something is…very wrong…and…it's…Argh!" It seemed as though he was in some type of pain as he writhed on the bed, letting go of Christopher's shoulders and groaning. Christopher had the odd feeling that something was preventing Edmund from telling him the truth, other than Edmund himself. He brushed away the idea quickly. That didn't seem possible. No one was in the room save for the two of them, and who would want to prevent Edmund from telling him? Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something else, other than what he could see, was going on.

He wanted to say something about going to the Nurse again when Edmund spoke harshly, "Stop it! I'm not going to listen to you! I _will_ tell him! I will! I-ah!" Again pain seemed to overtake him and he cried out.

Christopher felt as though his heart had turned to ice with fear and he wondered if his previous thoughts weren't so unfounded after all. "Who are you talking to?" he asked slowly.

"I have to tell you! Don't leave me until I tell you," Edmund gasped, reaching out again as though he wanted to keep his room mate in place by force.

"Then just tell me," Christopher said, trying to keep calm. His voice was shaking. This was too serious to handle alone, or at least, for him to handle alone.

"I…I can't," Edmund groaned, his voice nearly a whisper. He had paled considerably and the next second fell back onto the bed, having passed out. Christopher took the opportunity to start pacing the room, wondering what he should do next.

"I knew something was off," he muttered to himself, "and of course now that Edmund wants to tell me he can't…and I'm sure he's hallucinating…and this is too serious for me to deal with." Edmund groaned from the bed and started tossing about again. Christopher knew he couldn't get Edmund to the Nurse while he was unconscious, nor could he leave Edmund alone in such a state. But there was nothing for it. He had to get the Nurse.

Determined to make it there and back in the least amount of time possible, Christopher nearly ran from the room to Nurse Joan's office. She was always there as emergencies could arise at any time, but at this time she could be asleep. Taking no chances, Christopher knocked loudly. She answered the door looking a bit annoyed.

"I do have a patient, you know, with a rather bad stomach flu, and I would prefer it if you did not wake him," she said in a low, angry voice.

"That's great," Christopher said. "I have an emergency. My room mate, Edmund, you know him…he has a fever and he's in pain, I can tell, and I think he's hallucinating. And I only used my hand to take his temperature but he feels very hot and I'm don't think he's at all okay."

The Nurse furrowed her brow as she went back into the office and then came out again, closing the door softly behind her. She carried a few supplies with her and the two set off to tend to Edmund.

Christopher hastily threw open the door and a few boys who were lingering in the hallway just before bed time looked at him and the Nurse in confusion. Both nearly burst into the room and for the second time that day Christopher stopped dead.

"What are you _doing_?" he cried out. Edmund did not answer him. He was standing in the opposite corner of the room, looking at a spot in front of him with absolute terror. He held his pocket knife, drawn, out in front of him. The Nurse also stopped and gasped. They stood that way for quite awhile, Christopher and the Nurse both trying to think of how to handle this situation, when suddenly the knife fell to the floor and Edmund slumped against the wall.

Christopher was next to him in a flash. Edmund's eyes fluttered open and he murmured, "It's nothing…I'm all right…"

"No, you aren't," Christopher said as the Nurse knelt down next to them. "I've brought the Nurse."

"You…shouldn't have done that," he slurred, barely awake. "She…can't do…anything."

"If this has anything to do with that episode you had in English class," the Nurse said angrily as she took out a thermometer (although it was obvious Edmund had a fever), "I am never listening to you again. Or any other student for that matter." She took his temperature and muttered, "One-hundred and four. Too high and with everything else you've said," (this to Christopher), "I'm taking him to the hospital myself. It'll take too long for anyone to get here and then bring him back."

"What shall I do?" Christopher asked as she picked Edmund up; he was surprised that she was strong enough to, but Edmund wasn't exactly putting up a fight. Still, her face was a bit red from exertion.

"Just stay here," she said, "and I'll take care of everything." She staggered out with Edmund in her arms, and Christopher closed the door behind him, letting out his breath all at once as he did so.

.He frowned as he sat down on his bed, letting the night's events sink in. This was so much more than just a fever and yet he couldn't figure out exactly what was going on. All he knew was that something had been going on for quite awhile. Edmund just didn't feel comfortable enough to tell him. Perhaps it was a trust issue.

Christopher noticed something on the floor next to Edmund's bed and picked it up. It was an envelope addressed to Peter Pevensie.

"His brother," Christopher murmured. It occurred to him suddenly: "Surely he trusts his brother enough…and Peter can help him!" He rummaged through his own things to find a pen and paper and set about to writing. The letter was as follows:

_Dear Peter,_

_You don't know me, I suppose, but I'm Edmund's friend Christopher. I'm writing because something is seriously wrong with Edmund, especially now that he's fallen ill. By the time this gets to you you'll already know about the fallen ill part. But something has been wrong for awhile now. He hasn't seemed well and hasn't been acting normal. He tried to tell me about it recently but didn't seem able to. I think only you can find out what is wrong with him and you can help him better than I can. I wish you all the luck in helping him and I hope everything works out._

_Thank you,_

_Christopher Avery_

Christopher jumped up and ran out of the room, managing to catch the Nurse as she prepared to leave her office (having laid Edmund on a bed while she got her coat and car keys) and giving her the letter. She promised she would have one of the hospital doctors or nurses give the letter to Peter. She then sent him back to his room.

Once back, Christopher wondered what was happening to Edmund; whether the doctors at the hospital knew what was wrong with him, whether his family was on their way, whether_ Peter_ was on his way. What if he didn't get the letter? There were so many things he couldn't control that it was overwhelming. It was no surprise that Christopher's sleep was also restless.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for the long pause between updates, but I had gone away for a bit and was busy upon coming back. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's actually a combination of two chapters, one of which was shortened and one in its entirety. It works better than the previous arrangement, at any rate. Things will be getting busier soon but I plan on finishing the story. After all, I haven't gone and written the end for nothing. **


	19. Confession

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Narnia, or Narnian characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

Peter was feeling a million different things at once and he was glad Edmund wasn't awake. The previous night Peter had gotten a call from his parents telling him that Edmund had been taken to the hospital near his school and asking Peter what he would like to do. Peter did the only thing he felt he could do; he left the university and headed for the hospital to meet his parents there. They were to greet him and then go and bring back Lucy. Susan would also be coming, he heard.

He had arrived at Edmund's room to find his younger brother in a fitful sleep and his parents hovering worriedly over him. Upon seeing Peter Mrs. Pevensie rushed over and hugged him tightly. Peter could tell how hard this whole thing was on his Mother. He asked her, "Do they know what is wrong?"

"That is the problem," Mrs. Pevensie said quietly. "They've tried to find out but they don't know. Every test has come back without a result. The doctor says it could just be the flu…but even he seemed uncertain."

"Ah, well," Peter said, glancing at his brother. "I hope they figure it out."

His parents left shortly after and now he sat in a chair next to Edmund's bed, unsure whether or not he wanted his brother to wake up. He was tired, but it didn't matter. Edmund groaned in his sleep and frowned. Peter hated to see him there in the hospital bed, looking as if he was…no, Peter pushed the thought out of his head. Edmund was not dying.

A nurse walked slowly into the room and began checking Edmund's temperature, pulse, and a few other things. Peter wasn't really paying attention and was nearly dozing off when the nurse asked, "Are you Peter Pevensie, by any chance?"

Peter started in his chair and looked up at the nurse. "Yes," he said.

"I have something for you, then," and she pulled out a piece of paper, which Peter took with a frown. "The school nurse told me it was for you."

"Thanks," Peter said. The nurse started to leave when he asked, "Is Edmund any better?"

The nurse shook her head. "Nothing we give him is helping. Luckily, he is not worse."

She left the room and Peter turned his attention to the paper, which had writing on it. A few seconds later he realized it was a letter and that it was not from anyone he knew rather well. He read it, his brow furrowing as he came to the end of the letter. Then he breathed aloud, "Oh, Edmund!"

He stood and started pacing. The letter, from Edmund's room mate, Christopher, contained concerns that Edmund was not at all well, that something serious was going on and that Peter was the only one who could help. Peter might have not have been so upset if he hadn't already tried to help his brother. Edmund had resisted his attempts, however, and his and Lucy's plans to be "gentle" had not worked, so far. Edmund told them nothing.

Peter sighed and made up his mind. If they could, he and Lucy would get time alone with their brother and talk to him. There would be no more waiting. They needed to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Edmund felt horrid when he woke up. He did not want to open his eyes for fear of seeing some terrifying new vision, and he dared not listen lest he hear the Witch's voice taunting him. He felt so cold and weak and every inch of him hurt. Somewhere to his left he heard gentle snoring. This, and only this, was what prompted him to open his eyes.

The light caused his head to ache. He was staring at the ceiling. Slowly he turned his head to the left and gasped. Peter was asleep in a chair next to his bed. Just beyond him, in another chair, he saw Lucy also sleeping. He knew his parents were nearby. He wondered if Susan was.

His eyes closed of their own accord—the eyelids felt too heavy. He moved slightly and a wave of pain crashed over him, causing him to groan. He felt, though he hated to even think it, like he was dying. He also felt a bit angry. This stupid fever or whatever it was had forced everyone from their normal lives. He couldn't even pretend to be all right now.

And truthfully, even if he could, he wouldn't. Edmund had realized the previous night that he wasn't at all fine. He wasn't able to tell Christopher or, later, his parents. He knew the doctors hadn't been able to figure out what was wrong with him, nor had they been able to cure him (otherwise he would have felt much better). The only thing different from the previous night and this day was that he was no longer plagued by visions, making it a bit easier to think. As he thought, he made up his mind. No Witch was going to stop him. This time he was determined.

When they woke up, he would tell Peter and Lucy about the curse.

* * *

It wasn't long before everyone woke up. Edmund discovered that Susan was there as well and had just been out of his line of vision. Everyone was relieved that he was awake but their faces were still pinched with worry. After all, his fever was still there and he was still in the same state. He just wasn't seeing or hearing things.

It was a longer while before Peter and Lucy were left in the room alone with him. Their parents and Susan had decided to get some lunch while Peter and Lucy elected to stay behind. Edmund was grateful they did, because he wouldn't have wanted to convince them to stay.

Peter and Lucy both sat on his left side, Lucy on the bed and Peter in a chair. They looked at him and suddenly Edmund felt very tired, as though he wanted to go to sleep. He forced himself to stay awake.

"Ed," Lucy said softly. He turned his head to her. "I know you're not going to like us very much for this, but we can't help but be worried about you. We want to know what is going on."

"We were going to wait for you to tell us," Peter added, "but apparently you weren't going to. But now you're in the hospital and you can't tell us everything's perfectly fine now. So out with it: what is going on?"

Edmund was only slightly surprised that they would bring this up. They hadn't done so in a long while and at first he had wondered why. Then he had accepted it. Now he knew what he needed to do. Taking a shaky breath, he said, "I'm cursed."

Peter and Lucy both stared at him in surprise, which soon gave way to shock. Lucy gasped and Peter coughed and cried, "What!"

"Cursed," Edmund repeated hoarsely. "The Witch cursed me….at Beruna…and it's just come into effect now…a few months ago, actually…" He took a few deep breathes and was a bit disturbed to see how much talking tired him.

"How do you know she cursed you?" Lucy asked shakily. "I mean, the wand was already broken and…"

"Dream," Edmund answered shortly. "Told me in a dream….it felt so real…and I've seen her now."

"This is what Aslan warned me about?" Lucy asked, her eyes wide with sudden understanding. "Oh, how terrible! I knew it wasn't good but I never would have dreamed it would be so bad! I'm so sorry, Ed!"

Peter looked furious. "You mean after all these years her magic is trying to kill you!" he exclaimed. "I can't believe this! No, she will _not_ win! I'll…I'll…" And then he fell silent because he was at a loss when it concerned what he was going to do.

"I didn't tell you," Edmund said quietly, "because there's nothing you _can_ do."

A stony silence followed these words, broken only by Peter's voice: "Surely there is _something_ we can do," he said. "Come now, Ed. We've always been able to help each other. We'll fight the magic and defeat it. Lucy, what do you say?"

But Lucy looked very pale and upset and as she looked from Peter to Edmund a tear fell from her eyes. "I think Edmund's right," she whispered. Peter opened his mouth to argue but she held up a hand to stop him. "No, Aslan told me it was up to Edmund to fix this problem…and that I had to be there for him. But He never said anything about you or-or I being able to fight. And what _can_ we fight, Peter? It's magic and it's not as if we can take a sword to it. I don't even have my cordial!"

"Aslan told me that only I can defeat this curse," Edmund added, cementing Lucy's argument. "I'm sorry, Peter."

"It's not your fault," Peter said sharply.

"It is," Edmund whispered. "If I hadn't-"

"The point is," Peter overrode him, "that we need to be here for you, Ed, even if we can't do anything. Although I would prefer it if we could." He thought for a moment and his face lit up. "What of Aslan?"

"It's up to _me_, Peter, not Him," Edmund said wearily. "If He could, He would, but the magic of her curse doesn't let Him, or anyone else. It is my battle to fight."

"How cruel," Lucy whispered, looking extremely distraught.

"Of course she would come up with something like that," Peter said angrily. "Of all the low things one can do, this has to be the lowest! And have you any idea how to defeat this curse?"

"I've tried ignoring it," Edmund said, "but she won't let me."

"I shouldn't think so," Peter said, frowning. "Clearly it hasn't done you any good as now you're worse off than you ever were. Did you say…she doesn't let you? What—does she talk to you?"

"Yes," Edmund said quietly. "I see her, I hear her. I know my plan isn't working because it's not the right way…but I don't know anything else." He felt at a total loss.

"This is ridiculous," Peter muttered, to himself more than anyone. "Has she told you anything?"

"She told me to listen to her…or she would make things worse, which she has. She has a suggestion, I think."

"I'm not so sure I want you doing that," Peter said quietly. "Whatever she has to say can't be good. This curse must be powerful, for her to be talking to you. I say don't listen until you feel you absolutely have to."

"I'll try," Edmund whispered, swallowing thickly against fear that he hadn't been aware of until now.

"We'll be here for you," Lucy added. "Now that we know, we can help you through this. If you'll let us."

"I'll try," Edmund repeated. He sighed and closed his eyes. Everything was truly hopeless now and he knew that although telling his siblings was the right thing to do, it hadn't done much. They weren't able to do anything and he felt so hopeless. He knew they did as well and it scared him. Especially in Lucy's case: she never felt hopeless.

As he drifted off to sleep again he sent a prayer to Aslan, _Please help me defeat this curse. Please…_ He hoped his prayer would be heard…and answered…


	20. Weak

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Narnia, or any Narnian characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

It was three weeks before Edmund was considered well enough to be released from the hospital. At first his parents were against it, seeing as they didn't think he was fully recovered, but he managed to convince them to let him go back to school. After all, Edmund knew that the doctors really couldn't do anything more. He felt lucky that the fever had even subsided. His siblings did not try to stop him. Peter and Lucy knew, at least, the same thing he did.

He returned to school on a Saturday so that he would not need to go to classes right away. Being back in his room at school felt strange after having been gone so long. He hadn't even thought about school in the past few weeks and now it all came back at him. With a small groan he sat on the bed, thinking about all the lessons and work he had missed and would have to make up. "This was the worst time to get sick," he told himself.

The room was empty and he wondered where Christopher was. He wanted to thank his room mate for helping him the night he got sick. He didn't remember much from that night, but he knew Christopher had tried to find out what was wrong.

"At least I can talk to Peter and Lucy about it," he said quietly. "And maybe even Christopher, if I'm able to tell him, and if he'll believe me."

"_Tell me, Edmund_," the White Witch's voice suddenly cut through the silence, "_do you really believe that makes everything better?_"

Edmund gritted his teeth, an indescribable anger welling up inside him. He had felt fear and terror when the Witch had previous talked to him but now, after the events of the past few weeks, he could feel nothing but anger. He wanted to kill her and he was sure that if she were alive and standing there he would. "Yes, it will."

"_You're wrong_," the Witch said, "_and don't try to deny it. We both know that you have been wrong every time thus far._"

"You're not real," Edmund said suddenly. "You're only the remnants of the Witch. The _real _Jadis is long dead thanks to Aslan."

"_I become more real as you become weaker_," the Witch said, "_and let's face it, you were always _weak_. No matter how your family or Aslan tries to help you, you will give in to my magic. You've done it before. Once a traitor, always a traitor_."

Edmund flinched. The words hit him hard and he snapped, perhaps too quickly, "That's not true!"

The Witch laughed. "_Is it not? Have you not considered giving in to this curse? Have you not considered listening to me?_"

"No, I haven't," Edmund said, but he knew this wasn't true. He had considered listening to the Witch's suggestion and might have done so if Peter had not told him to wait. He had also wondered from time to time whether he should just give into the curse; he had felt hopeless enough at times to do so, and yet when he thought about it he found he didn't know how to even go about it. Yet now as he listened to the Witch he wondered if giving in meant listening to her suggestion.

"_That is a lie, you and I both know it_," the Witch said. "_You want to give in. You want to know how to make this stop. There is only one way…_"

"Stop it!" Edmund yelled. "I'm not listening to you! I will not do that! I will not give in to your magic. Yes, I may have considered it, but that doesn't mean I'll do it!"

"_Oh, but you will_," the Witch said with just the hint of a laugh. "_You may have promised your brother you wouldn't, but you are weak. You are easily tempted. The little boy who gave his siblings up for Turkish Delight is still there and he will give in and listen to my suggestion, and he will carry it out._"

"No," Edmund said, shaking his head. "No, that isn't true." He wanted someone to reassure him that it wasn't true, that the Witch was lying, but he was alone and his confidence in himself was faltering. The Witch had hit upon a subject he rarely liked to talk about in England.

In Narnia, it had been so much easier to believe that he was no longer a treacherous person. He had been a well loved King who had done much good for his country. Now, back in England, when he was nothing but a boy, the old doubts crept back up on him. Edmund never liked to think on them, but ever since he was told he couldn't go back to Narnia he ended up thinking about it more often. He was nothing special in England, and perhaps now that he no longer was a king he could become weak of nature again. The curse only increased his doubts.

"_You believe it is true_," the Witch said. "_Edmund, I can make this easy. Listen to me now and perhaps the end will come quickly. Choose not to and I shall make you feel miserable, just as I have before. You will see just how horrid a person you really are. I know better than the others. I've seen you at your worst._"

"Go AWAY!" Edmund yelled, leaping to his feet. He stood, breathing hard, for a few seconds and heard nothing. Then he sat down again.

The Witch was right, he did want so badly for the curse to be ended. He just didn't know how to go about it. This was magic…this was beyond his power to deal with and somehow he was expected to. He wanted to escape and he couldn't think of a single way to do that except…

"Stop being nonsensical, Ed," he told himself harshly. "That's not it." A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he thought more on it, despite not wanting to. Escape had a name; he just didn't like the sound of it at all. Yet he couldn't help but say it out loud:

"_Death._"

Saying it made it seem that much more real, more possible, and it was the first time Edmund had ever seriously entertained it as an idea. He shook his head again. "That's what she wants, isn't it," Edmund said. "The question is, am I supposed to die because of the curse? Or is it something I need to do…myself? Surely not!" He shivered again. Aslan didn't mean for death to be the only way out. There had to be another way. He was certain the curse was trying to kill him. He forced his thoughts away from death.

Yet the more he thought the more he found there really was nothing else. He couldn't ignore the Witch—she managed to get into his mind anyway. Perhaps the only way out was to listen to what she wanted…but that would make him weak. He didn't want to prove to her that he was weak. Perhaps death really was the only way…

"I'm a horrid person for even thinking that!" he mumbled to himself. "_Peter_ would kill me before anyone else could."

Suddenly the door opened and Christopher walked in. He stopped for a second upon seeing Edmund and then smiled. "I suppose this means you're better," he said.

Edmund smiled tentatively, still half thinking about everything else. "More or less."

"Did…they figure out what was wrong?" Christopher asked, looking concerned.

"Not really," Edmund admitted. There was no sense in lying to Christopher, especially if he ever wanted to tell him what was really happening. "It did get better, though."

"Well, does Peter know what it is?"

Edmund frowned, unsure why Christopher would mention his brother. Why not his sisters or parents as well? Then he remembered Peter's sudden resolve to find out what was going on and it occurred to him that the two might have contacted each other. "Did you talk to Peter?" he asked suspiciously.

Christopher blushed and turned away for a second, giving Edmund his answer. Still, he waited for the other boy to say something and a few seconds later he did. "I'm sorry, Edmund, but that night you kept trying to tell me something and I wasn't sure why you couldn't…and I thought something worse than a fever was going on, and I wrote Peter to see if he could help you."

"You did," Edmund said, frowning a little. He wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or grateful or angry. "How did you get his address?"

"I gave the letter to the Nurse to give to him," Christopher explained. "I did have his address, but I figured he would be gone from his school by the time the letter was mailed. I'm really sorry, again, but I thought you needed help. You haven't been yourself for quite awhile."

"Well," Edmund sighed. He decided to be grateful. No harm had come from the letter and in a way it didn't matter, as he had been going to tell Peter anyway. He felt slightly better, knowing that his room mate cared enough about him to do something like that. "Thank you."

Christopher smiled. "As long as it helps," he said.

Edmund forced himself to smile. "It did," he said. This wasn't true, though. He was still in the same position as before, only now more people knew what was going on. He sighed and sat down again. There was really nothing as of yet that could help. He couldn't fight the curse; he could only try to overcome challenges as they came to him. And he couldn't very well consider death as being part of his plan.

The two sat in silence for awhile and Edmund came to a conclusion. He wasn't sure if the Witch he constantly heard talking to him was present now, or even if what he said would ultimately make a difference. In any case, he decided to accept the curse for what it was. Quietly, he thought, _Do what you please._

Faintly he heard the Witch whisper back to him: _I will. _


	21. Good Council

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies or any Narnian characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

There are certain things a person notices when living with something else. After all, it is hard to hide things from your room mate, and clearly Edmund was having a hard time hiding things from Christopher. It was nearing Christmas break and Christopher had begun to notice that Edmund was, yet again, looking unwell, almost as if he never completely recovered from being sick. What was worse, he had become withdrawn.

Perhaps this was why Christopher decided to talk to Edmund. One day, when the two were studying in the room, he broached the subject. "Edmund?"

Edmund looked up, his face pale and drawn. "Yes?" he asked quietly.

"You seem out of sorts," Christopher said, trying to keep his voice light. "I thought everything was better. You and Peter talked, right?"

"Yes," Edmund said, frowning. "We talked and everything turned out fine. What do you mean by I seem 'out of sorts'?"

"You seem like you did before," Christopher said. "You know what I mean. I'm just concerned for you. Things didn't turn out so well last time. You never did tell me what was wrong in the first place."

"I couldn't," Edmund said, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I can't, actually. Only Peter and Lucy understand and even they don't understand completely."

"Are you sure you can't tell me anything?" Christopher pressed. "I'm certain I can help with something."

Edmund's face paled even further and he looked, oddly enough, angry. "You wouldn't know!" he snapped quite suddenly, causing Christopher to start. "Do you want to know the truth? I'm not sure you would."

Christopher wasn't sure he would, either, but he said, "I do want to know. I want to help."

Edmund stood up. He was shaking. "I hate myself."

Christopher was shocked enough so that he couldn't process what was being said. The whole idea of Edmund hating himself seemed ridiculous; he didn't know why Edmund would even think like that. This was why he could only say, "_What_?"

"I hate myself," Edmund repeated, his voice low and angry. "I hate myself because I'm a horrid person. I've done something terrible in the past and no matter how much I try it still comes back to me. And I'm nearly tempted by the same thing! Do you know what it's like, feeling like you can't help but make the same mistakes over and over again? You don't, because you are a perfectly respectable person!"

"That isn't true," Christopher managed to say. "I've made plenty of mistakes."

"None that nearly got others killed," Edmund said, "and I never deserved forgiveness, because everything that is happening is still _my fault_ because of that mistake! And I keep listening to_ Her _because I'm not strong enough…I'm a horrid person!" His voice had risen to near a yell but now it became little more than a whisper. "I don't deserve to live."

Christopher was on his feet in an instant and his voice was raised as he said, "Don't say that! Edmund, you deserve to live and you are not a horrid person! Stop it!" He wanted to go up to Edmund and shake him until he started to see sense, but his better judgment told him not to.

"If you knew what I'd done you would agree," Edmund murmured darkly.

"I don't care what you've done because it doesn't matter now," said Christopher, meaning every word. "What matters is who you are now and I think you are a wonderful friend and I hate to see you this way. Please, Edmund, listen to me."

"You don't know!" Edmund snapped. He was shaking harder now and he closed his eyes for a second as though trying to block something out. "Stop it!" he yelled, and Christopher had the odd feeling that it was not him being addressed. Edmund then took a deep, shuddering breath and added, to Christopher this time, "You just don't know…" Then he bolted past him out the door.

Christopher had no idea what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good for Edmund to be like this. What he had said was a serious matter. He took out a sheet of paper and wrote a letter to Peter, the one person he knew could help. After all, he had nearly made things better once before. Surely this wasn't out of his hands.

He could only hope…

* * *

Once all the Pevensies were back home for Christmas, just a few short days after Edmund and Christopher's confrontation, Peter and Lucy convened in the privacy of her room. The subject was a letter concerning Edmund's well-being, sent from his room mate Christopher.

Lucy read the letter a second time while Peter paced the room, trying to think of how to best approach the situation. She couldn't seem to believe what she was reading. She looked up at Peter with tears in her eyes. "This doesn't sound like Edmund at all."

"I swear, if I could do something about this I would do it in an instant," Peter said angrily. "As it is, Edmund needs to know he can defeat this…this curse. It seems the magic gets stronger as he gets weaker, and it's pretty strong if he feels like he doesn't deserve to live. He hasn't felt that way in…a long time."

"No," Lucy said quietly, "not since he found out what Aslan did for him."

"And he realized that it wasn't the right way to be thinking," Peter added. "Unless…he still doubted afterwards. He most likely wouldn't have told us, if that was the case."

"Then I know what to do," Lucy said, standing up and wiping the tears from her eyes. "We need to erase those doubts."

"This involves a talk, doesn't it?" Peter asked, grinning a bit.

"Doesn't it always?" Lucy asked. Peter stood up as well and together they headed across the hallway to the boys' room. Peter opened the door, not feeling the need to knock, as it was as much his room as it was Edmund's. They found Edmund lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Hullo, good brother," Peter said cheerfully. He and Lucy sat on either side of his bed and Edmund sat up quickly, looking mildly annoyed.

"Why are you here?" he asked, glancing from one sibling to the other.

"To talk to you," Lucy answered gently. "We know something is wrong."

"I got a letter," Peter began.

"From Christopher, I suppose," Edmund finished. "I had a feeling he would write one. What was it about this time?"

"This is serious," Peter said. "He wrote that you said you were a horrid person and felt that you don't deserve to live. Edmund, you know none of that is true."

"What would you know of it?" Edmund asked hotly. "You've never made that type of mistake in your life. You've never given into temptation! No one can say anything bad of you!"

"We're not talking about me," Peter snapped, "and I have made my fair share of mistakes. We're talking about you and why you've been thinking that way. Edmund, please, just listen."

"I'm not going to listen!" Edmund yelled. "It's none of your business what I said or how I feel!"

"What do you mean?" Peter yelled back, causing Lucy to flinch. "It is bloody well my business to know why you think you should die! Edmund, I don't want you to be thinking something idiotic like that! Stop being thick headed and _listen to me_!"

"I don't want to listen to you! It doesn't matter what you say or do because in the end you can't do _anything_! It's my fight and my fight alone and you can't help me, _so just stay out of it._" The two brothers glared at each other, both breathing heavily. Then Peter, looking almost as if he would like to hit Edmund, stood up and walked out.

"Perhaps," Lucy started, her voice shaking, "perhaps you are right, and we can't do anything…Edmund, we can help, though, if you'll let us."

Edmund sighed and shook his head. Suddenly he looked terribly sad. "I'm such a horrible person."

"No, you're not," Lucy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You are the best kind of person."

"That isn't true," Edmund said, pulling away from her hand. He didn't have much success; rather, Lucy moved forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"I don't lie," Lucy countered. "You know how terrible I am at lying." Edmund said nothing because he knew it was true. "It takes a great person to go from being a traitor to becoming a great King known as the Just."

"I'm not that King any longer, you know," Edmund said quietly. "You don't see the people around here calling me their king."

"Oh, but you are," Lucy said earnestly. "None of us are kings and queens here, but we _are_ kings and queens. After all, Aslan did say that once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen in Narnia. We are still the same people we were then and you have to believe that, Ed. You are still a great, Just king, even if we're not in Narnia. Please, believe me."

"I'm not sure I can," Edmund said quietly.

"Edmund, listen to me," Lucy said seriously. "You need to forgive yourself, otherwise things won't get better. Don't listen to your doubts." She stood up and exited the room, leaving Edmund alone to think about what she'd said. For a few seconds she lingered at the door before heading downstairs to check on Peter.

Peter was sitting in the living room looking distraught. Upon seeing her he looked up and told her, "He's right, you know, and I hate to admit it. I can't do anything."

"We can be there for him," Lucy pointed out. "I think you two should make up. That_ is_ part of being there for him, after all."

"You're right," Peter sighed, standing up. "How did the talk go?"

"I left him to think about what I'd said," Lucy answered. "He listened, but I'm not sure if he believes it or will take it to heart. But he heard me. I'm sure he's ready enough for you to go talk to him."

"Then I will," Peter said, crossing the room. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and turned back to Lucy with a small smile on his face. "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," Lucy said, grinning as Peter disappeared up the stairs. Her smile faded when she thought about how hard all of this was on all three of them. "They're both going to need it."


	22. Desperation

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Narnia, or any Narnian characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

"Lucy?" Lucy looked up from the book she was reading. Edmund was standing in her doorway, looking very awkward. His face was slightly flushed.

"Good morning," Lucy said, smiling a little. She wasn't sure why he was here. She hoped it had something to do with the talk they had the previous night.

"Good morning," Edmund muttered, walking into the room and sitting on her bed. Lucy raised her eyebrows expectantly at him. He took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry."

Lucy blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Edmund repeated, looking uncomfortable. "I've been perfectly miserable and I shouldn't be. It's nearly Christmas! I just…I always hear the Witch countering what you and Peter say and she's so constant and I've always had my doubts and I'm not sure exactly who to listen to-"

"Hold on!" Lucy interrupted, looking slightly amused despite everything. "Edmund, I've never heard you say so much so fast. Not that I mind—I'm glad you're talking."

Edmund smiled a little and Lucy was relieved. He hadn't smiled in such a long time. "I suppose…I can't promise anything," he said slowly.

"I know you can't," Lucy said, more seriously. "I know that this curse can't be easy to deal with, but I urge you to think about what I've said."

"I'll try," Edmund said, though something in his eyes made Lucy want to insist upon it. She didn't get the chance, however, because he added, "I would rather not talk about it. Let's…forget about it and try and enjoy ourselves." He gave her an awkward smile. "It's Christmas."

"I know you're trying to distract me from the true topic at hand, but I'll go along with it because Aslan knows you need to get your mind on other things," Lucy conceded. "I assume you've apologized to Peter?" Edmund nodded. "Good. Perhaps he'll be interested in having some fun with us."

They stood and walked out of the room together. Lucy could never know it, but Edmund felt better than he had in a long time. Finally, _finally_, he felt like he might be making progress.

* * *

"Edmund, I'm sorry about this. I really, really am." Peter paced the bedroom looking truly and sincerely apologetic.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Edmund croaked from his bed. "It's not as if _you _made me sick." He was more upset than he would ever let on. He, Peter, and Lucy had gone into the city and had fun, as Lucy put it, and he had been happy. Then, the day after, _this_ had happened; he had gotten a fever. He knew the cause of it and it made him feel worse than anything in the world.

"No," Peter admitted, "but I'm sorry I can't do anything about it. This is so…argh! She's taking your holiday! Why can't she let you just be happy for once?"

"I don't know," Edmund muttered, trying to stay awake. He was shivering. Everything felt so cold.

Peter glanced at his younger brother and frowned. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No," Edmund said, sighing. "I'm content to lie here."

"Well," Peter sighed and sat down on his bed.

Edmund shifted uncomfortably. Something was on his mind and he wanted to tell Peter, but he wasn't so sure his brother could understand. Finally, he decided to ask him: "Do you think I don't deserve happiness?"

"What?" Peter looked shocked. "Of course you do, Edmund. You need happiness. Why?"

"Every time I've managed to be happy," Edmund explained, "something has happened to make everything worse. I'm never allowed to stay happy. I'm beginning to think this curse will never go away until it keeps me from being happy forever. And there's a reason for it. I was a traitor. I don't deserve-"

"Stop it," Peter said firmly, staring hard at his brother. "Don't tell me that you don't deserve something. You deserve it, Edmund. You deserve happiness as much as the rest of us. I wouldn't lie."

"Lucy doesn't lie either," Edmund said, frowning. "Yet I can't bring myself to believe what either of you say. Is that the curse's fault, or mine? I don't even deserve you two; I can't even believe you."

"It's not your fault," Peter insisted. "It's _Hers_."

"And who gave in to her?" Edmund asked harshly. If he had the strength to sit up, he would have, but the most he could do was glare at Peter. "Not you! It was _me_ and that is why this is my fault!"

"Ed, you're being unreasonable-"

"Peter, I want to be _alone_."

The two stared at each other for the better part of five minutes without saying a word. Peter then stood up, looking very sad, and left the room. Edmund groaned in frustration, wishing more than anything he could believe his siblings and feeling like a horrible person because he couldn't. He closed his eyes and found himself drifting off to sleep.

When Edmund next awoke he found he was colder than ever and everything ached. He turned around, trying to find a comfortable position and winced, then turned again. He was in pain, he couldn't sleep, and the blanket was inadequate. He felt like a terrible person and he was alone. Should he have gotten out of bed, he would have found Peter and Lucy in her room, talking as they often did. He did not, however, choosing instead to stay in his bed and stare at the ceiling. He didn't want to think…he tried not to. He knew that inevitably he would.

The door creaked open. "Peter?" Edmund called softly. It wasn't Peter. A pale hand slipped into the room first, followed by an equally pale arm, and then its owner came into full view, wearing a rather triumphant look on her face. The White Witch closed the door behind her and strode over to Edmund's bed. He wasn't even surprised to see her. Edmund, actually, had been expecting it.

"You know what you do not deserve," she said softly. "Do you know what you _do _deserve?" Edmund shook his head. "I believe you do."

Edmund closed his eyes, feeling tears behind them as he acknowledged a truth he would rather have not. "Death," he whispered, saying it aloud for the first time.

"Of course," the Witch purred, looking pleased with his answer. "Always, even with Aslan's sacrifice. You've always known it, and I have too. In that knowledge, won't you listen to me now? I know a solution to this that you do not know."

Edmund bit his lip. Peter had said not to listen, but things were getting out of hand. He knew he had to take some sort of action and this seemed the only way out. He wanted the curse to end. He was suffering, Lucy and Peter were suffering, and it only got worse. Slowly, he nodded.

The Witch looked even more pleased with herself. "You know what you deserve, and there is only one way to end this curse. Aslan told you that only you could end it, did he not?"

"He did," Edmund answered shakily. His eyes widened as he thought of what the Witch could be implying. He then decided not to think about it. There was no use in wondering if she was going to tell him anyway. The fact that she had mentioned Aslan, however, unnerved him. How could she have known what He told Lucy? Edmund couldn't get that one detail out of his head.

"Well, then," the Witch said, "keeping that in mind, listen carefully. You deserve death and Aslan told you the one way to end this curse is in your own hands. Currently my magic controls you. You know all of these things to be true." A terrible sneer spread across her features. "No one can help you. You are alone. So tell me, Edmund, are you ready for this to end?"

"I am," Edmund admitted, though he knew it wouldn't be easy. He also had the feeling he wouldn't like it. _Aslan…_ He had started to pray, but the prayer died as he looked into the Witch's eyes. She was staring at him with such intensity and he remembered his first meeting with her. He shivered.

"Then you must appease my magic in this way," said the Witch. "You must end all this with what you deserve: death, and your death must be by your own hands."

This was followed by a sharp intake of breath and then silence. Edmund felt tears slowly trail down his face as he realized that this was what he had thought about earlier. It was true that he felt he didn't deserve to live, but to hear that he had been _right_ in thinking this was too much to bear, because in the end he wasn't sure he _wanted_ it. He managed to stutter, "B-but that isn't w-what Aslan w-wants."

"What he wants means nothing," the Witch snapped. "He has offered no solution. It is your choice, whether you like it or not. Continue your suffering, which will only get worse and surely drive you mad, or end it all. You find truth in the fact that you deserve to die. You can only end the curse by your own hand. Did you not tell me this is true?"

Her voice was loud and harsh, and Edmund had started to sob. He didn't know what to do, faced with such a choice. He wished he had never listened to her, but now that he knew what his choices were he felt that death was the only way out. He believed he deserved it and there seemed to be no other way. Then he thought of how Peter and Lucy would react. Susan, his parents…Aslan… And yet the Witch's words rang true.

"What will it be?" the Witch asked.

Edmund swallowed. This was the hardest thing he'd ever done. "I'll do it," he whispered, feeling all the worse as he did so.

The Witch smirked. "So be it." She disappeared, leaving Edmund to cry, alone in the room once more.


	23. Defeat

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, the Pevensies, or any of Narnia's inhabitants. All are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

"I feel bad," Lucy said, frowning at the movie screen. "Edmund would have liked this."

"I know," Peter whispered back. The two had gone with their Mother to see a movie and Edmund, still slightly ill, had said he didn't want to go and stayed home with their Father. He had looked strangely drawn and upset. Peter was really worried about Edmund and had gone as far as trying to talk to him, but in the end accomplished nothing.

"Watch the movie," Mrs. Pevensie whispered.

"Sorry, Mum," Lucy said. "We were just thinking about Edmund."

"I do hope he's fine," Mrs. Pevensie said. Peter and Lucy gave her a curious look and she added, "Your Father's gone off to work." Peter nearly choked. "Is there something wrong? I thought I told you…"

Lucy and Peter exchanged horrified looks and Peter said, trying to stay calm, "No, you did not. But you could have."

"He should have just left," Mrs. Pevensie said reassuringly. "I'm sure Edmund will be fine. He was feeling better."

Peter and Lucy both looked alarmed; ever since Edmund had told Peter he didn't deserve happiness both siblings had been very worried for there brother. The two had talked and decided that Edmund shouldn't be left alone, because it seemed that something always went wrong when he was alone, and now more than ever he was susceptible to the magic of the Witch. Peter suddenly stood. "I'll go check on him, just in case."

"Hurry back," Mrs. Pevensie whispered.

Peter nodded and exited the theater. He had never run so fast in his life as he did that day.

* * *

Peter ran into the house and hastily scanned the area for his younger brother. He called out for him but got no answer-Edmund remained as silent as ever. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair and walked swiftly into the living room and then the kitchen.

Peter realized immediately that something was amiss upon entering. At first he couldn't put his finger on it. Then he noticed something; there was a folded piece of paper on the kitchen table. With much hesitation Peter picked it up, knowing he would not like what it said.

_I should have _never_ let him stay here alone_, he thought bitterly as he unfolded the letter.

_I love you, _it said in Edmund's handwriting, although it was a much more hurried, scratchy style than he usually used. _You wouldn't understand why I did this, but it needed to be done. I can only hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me. Perhaps we shall meet again one day-even in Aslan's country._

"Lion's mane, Ed!" Peter cried out as the words sank in. "What are you doing!" It was then, as he looked up from the paper, that he realized what exactly was amiss in the kitchen.

Right in front of him was the stand that held the sharper knives used to cut steak. He saw, with horror, that one of the knives was missing. Panicking, Peter checked the sink even though he knew it wasn't in there. Involuntarily, he started to shake with both fear and frustration.

"Edmund, I'm going to _kill_ you!" Peter yelled as he ran out of the kitchen.

_If he doesn't do it to himself first_, a voice whispered, uninvited, in his head.

* * *

Edmund had tears in his eyes as he held the knife. He was locked in the upstairs bathroom and had been almost completely resolved to do this-but a constant tugging at his conscience made him hesitate. Now he wasn't quite sure what to do. He'd written the note, he'd gotten the knife. He gripped it harder now until his hands grew sore and whispered, "This is the only way."

"_What are you waiting for, my dear Edmund? Or perhaps you have not had enough_," the Witch's uninvited voice whispered in his ear.

Edmund shuddered and his hands shook harder than any other part of his body. The tears fell harder now as he realized that he was in the process of giving up, something he'd never done before. Yet, as he stood there, he felt he had no choice. Aslan hadn't been able to do anything and his brother and sisters couldn't help and didn't understand. No one understood. He was so terribly alone…and he had already made his choice.

"_Admit it, Son of Adam, you were _wrong_,"_ the Witch said in a clear, calm, and commanding voice. The confidence in it only succeeded in making Edmund feel worse.

"I was so very wrong," he whispered, his voice broken as he felt. She was right-he was wrong in saying Aslan could defeat this curse. It hadn't worked. He wasn't free.

"_I was right, wasn't I_?" the Witch continued. "_Further more, you deserve it. You deserve this for all the pain you put your siblings through-and Narnia through-when you first walked into Lantern Waste. You deserve this because you always were, and will always be a traitor."_

Edmund nodded slowly, unable to speak. If he could, he would have said sorry for everything. He would have agreed that he did deserve everything no matter how much his siblings and Aslan told him he didn't, because he never wanted Aslan to die on the Stone Table. It was his fault and he'd never atoned for his sins…until now.

"_You do realize what you have to do_," the Witch said, her voice so cruelly light compared to the heaviness Edmund felt. "_Your debt will not have been paid until you've done this." _

Edmund felt horrid now. He'd always wanted to find a way to make up for what trouble he'd caused-for the pain he'd caused Aslan. Lucy always told him it was unnecessary because Aslan did it out of love, but Edmund felt it was more than unfair of the Lion to suffer for his mistakes. After awhile he believed Lucy, after having gotten to know Aslan a bit more, but now everything he'd witnessed and heard made him feel different. Beside, death seemed the only way to escape this…this misery.

_Perhaps Aslan will forgive me this_, Edmund thought. Then he wondered, as he had before whether Aslan would be _angry_ at him-he had died to save Edmund the same fate, and if Edmund went on with what he planned to do that sacrifice would have been in vain. Should Edmund be so _ungrateful_ to do this to the Lion? Would this be a choice becoming of someone who had received a second chance? He gripped the knife harder and tried to rid himself of this thought-_just do it!_

The knife was heavy in his hands as Edmund looked up into the mirror. His face was pale and he looked cold and nearly _dead_. He was unsurprised to see the White Witch standing directly behind him, looking as calm and terrible as ever. Her thin mouth was twisted into a cruel smile and she held Edmund's arms. Slowly, she guided his arms up so that the knife was hovering just above his heart. "_Do it now_," she purred.

Edmund sighed and let her guide him. She brought his arms up so that the knife was positioned right by his neck and then—of all things—she let go. "_You know what you _want_ to do_," she told him.

Edmund shuddered again as he realized this was what he wanted-at least, a part of him wanted it very badly. _The _weak_ part_, his mind told him. It would just be so _easy_ to bury the knife into his neck-perhaps a bit painful, but what was the pain of dying compared to the pain he had experienced for these past few months living?

"_You know, what is easy and what is right and good aren't the same things,"_ a voice in his head, which sounded mysteriously like a younger version of himself, told him.

The Witch was patiently waiting and Edmund pressed the knife against his skin, feeling the cold steel. He pressed harder and felt a slight twinge of pain, drawing a little blood. His hands shook as he thought of what he had just been told. He thought of Lucy and Peter and even Susan and how disappointed they would be. And then he thought of Aslan…

Edmund never thought of it before this point, but he thought of it now: _We've always done things in the name of Aslan. Can I really say I do this in His name?_

Edmund looked up into the mirror and saw his own eyes looking back, and in them he saw remnants of a Just King. Aslan told them, of their titles as monarchs, to "Bear it well." Was _this_ bearing it well? Edmund's chest constricted and he realized he didn't know quite what to do.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps and someone calling his name reached his ears and he stiffened. Peter was in the house. Peter, who had always had endless trust in Aslan, who had always remained so _Magnificent_.

"_It is up to _you_ to defeat the curse_," Aslan had said. "_I have faith in you._"

Edmund, with stunning clarity, realized what he had to do.

Raising the knife above his head, he looked straight into the mirror, into the Witch's eyes, which had widened. "_You will regret this_," she hissed, and suddenly Edmund's vision was filled with several things at once.

Lucy was sobbing over her siblings' graves. Peter lay on the floor of the kitchen bleeding profusely. Susan was attacked in the dark by a mysterious figure-whether it was in England or Narnia Edmund couldn't tell. He shook his head and cleared it, fighting to remind himself that these things weren't real-were never real, and not to be afraid. _Aslan, only Aslan is real._

"In the name of Aslan, be gone!" Edmund yelled, and swung the knife forward so that it hit the mirror in exactly the place the Witch was standing. She screamed a long and horrible scream of anger and fear. The mirror shattered and glass shards fell all over the sink and floor. Strangely enough, mixed in with the glass were larger shards of cold, blue ice. Edmund stared at what he had done, the knife still gripped in his hands tightly, just in case something should attack him.

The door burst open with a loud bang and Edmund didn't need to look to see who it was. Peter was upon him in seconds, grabbing him around the middle and hitting his hand so the knife fell, with a loud clatter, to the floor. "What were you thinking?" Peter half yelled. Edmund could tell by his voice that he was crying. "Edmund, don't ever do something like this again! Do you realize what would have happened if-?" Peter didn't seem able to finish his question.

Hoarsely, just processing what had been about to happen, Edmund whispered, "I would have killed myself."

"You would have _died_." Peter's voice was also hoarse and he was shaking, pulling Edmund closer to him. "You would have died and…and…I couldn't have done anything about it. I wish I'd…been able to stop it-been able to understand. I wish…what _happened_?" He had just noticed the ice and glass and the broken mirror. Then he noticed Edmund's neck. "Is that _blood_? Were you that _close_?" His voice could barely be heard.

Edmund grabbed Peter's hand and turned to face his brother. Peter's face was tear stained and he looked terrified and sad and helpless, things that Peter should never have looked in the first place. "She's gone," Edmund said quietly. Somehow, he knew with the most certainty that it was true. "It is over." As he spoke these words, he heard Aslan, in a soft growl, speaking them with him.

Then, without warning, he felt his knees give way and he fell into Peter's open arms. He let Peter guide him to the floor. More readily than was usual for him, Edmund leaned into Peter's chest and sobbed. Peter let him, and they stayed that way, clutching each other, until the rest of the family came home a couple of hours later.

Even in his overwhelmed state Edmund noticed one thing that made it possible to bear everything else—here in Peter's arms, and for the first time in a long time, he felt _warm_.

* * *

**Author's note: This chapter has actually been written for quite awhile--it was the third chapter, I believe, that I wrote for this story, and I'm happy to finally post it. One more chapter to go. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! **


	24. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Narnia, or any Narnian characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.**

* * *

Edmund sat on his bed with a stack of blank papers and a pen in hand. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn't sure he could bring himself to do it. He picked up one of the papers and turned it over and over in his hand, considering it. That one piece of paper had so much potential. He could put anything he wanted on it. He could write his life's story.

This, as a matter of fact, was what he wanted to do.

The past few days had been difficult. Ever since his parents and Lucy had come home and discovered him and Peter on the floor of the bathroom, with the mirror broken, they had wanted an explanation. Peter told them that Edmund had simply slipped and fallen into the mirror. Luckily they never saw the knife, hidden beneath them on the floor. Otherwise he wouldn't have been able to explain it away.

Lucy, however, knew something else had gone on, and Peter explained it to her much later, after Edmund was asleep. It was the first time he had slept peacefully in months, and this comforted both Lucy and Peter. However, both were still shaken by how close the Witch had come to succeeding, how close they had been to losing Edmund. It was fortunate that Peter had the sense to check on him.

Now Edmund was feeling much better, but relations between him and Peter had been awkward at best. Lucy was happy as ever that the curse was over and done with and things had been mostly back to normal with her. Peter, however, did not know how to deal with things, and perhaps did not know how to deal with Edmund after the fact that he had almost committed suicide. Edmund himself found it hard to believe, looking back.

It was for this reason that Edmund was alone. Peter seemed to be avoiding him—avoiding everyone, in fact. Edmund and Lucy had talked about it and it seemed he was just in shock from it all. She said he would come around. It was Christmas Eve, and Edmund wasn't sure he could wait until Peter came around.

Still, the paper in his hands was demanding most of his attention, and he wanted to take advantage of the loneliness to write. He put the pen to paper and began writing. He wrote for hours, working through many pages, ignoring the ache of his hand. He kept writing, concentrating solely on the pen and getting his story across. Lucy had always been the best story teller, but Edmund was pretty good at it when it came to writing the stories down. It was past midnight when he finished, and when he did he looked up in a daze.

Peter still hadn't come into the room. Perhaps he had dropped by, seen that Edmund was awake, and left. The door was, after all, open. It had been the whole time.

Edmund shook himself and pushed the pages into an envelope addressed to Christopher. He smiled, a bit nervous, but sure that Christopher would approach the letter with open-mindedness. He had more than earned his right to learn of Narnia, and that was what was in those pages: Edmund's account of his and his siblings' adventures in Narnia. He would hand Christopher the letter in person.

Feeling satisfied, Edmund leaned back in bed and closed his eyes. He relished the silence around him, knowing that the White Witch wouldn't be talking to him this night. He took in the warmth and smiled. Before he drifted off, however, he heard a voice speak to him. This voice was welcome and made his smile grow wider. It was Aslan.

_You have done well, Edmund. Happy Christmas._

"Happy Christmas," Edmund murmured.

That night his sleep was filled with the most pleasant of dreams.

* * *

The crisp, clear winter sunlight that filtered through the windows the next morning woke Edmund up. He felt excited in a way a smaller child might—it was Christmas. He slowly blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Then he sat up and looked around, his eyes sweeping the room. They landed on Peter's bed. Peter was there.

Slowly, Edmund got out of bed and walked towards Peter. If there was a talk to be had, he wanted to have it now. Peter's breathing was even and it was clear he was still asleep. _Well, not for long_, Edmund thought with a slight smirk. And he abruptly pulled the covers off of his brother.

This did not go as well as planned, as Peter was lying on top of half the covers, something which Edmund had not expected, and so he fell. Peter sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around to find his brother lying entangled in the blankets on the floor.

"Edmund?" he said, blinking a few times.

Edmund took a few moments to disentangle himself. He then sat on the edge of Peter's bed. Peter, now fully awake, looked away and cleared his throat.

"Peter," Edmund said, looking pointedly at his brother. He had never seen Peter not look someone in the eyes, but he was doing so now, and it annoyed Edmund greatly. "Why won't you look at me?"

"You're the only one who can make me feel that way, you know," Peter said quietly, looking anywhere but Edmund. "Make me feel nervous enough so that I can't look you in the eye, I mean."

"Only now," Edmund pointed out. "Never before, Peter. Before, even when we were fighting, you could always look me in the eye. Why not now?" Peter bit his lip and remained silent. Edmund decided to continue, "These past few days you've avoided me, and I know I've done a lot of avoiding as well these past few months, but I haven't defeated the curse to have you start to do what I did."

"You defeated it," Peter said, frowning.

"Yes, we've established that," Edmund said. He didn't mean to sound sarcastic, but his patience was wearing thin. Patience had never been a strong point of his.

Peter took a moment to think and then sighed, running a hand through his already messed up hair. "I just…I don't know how to…I don't know what to do, Ed," he said quietly.

"Lucy and I figured as much," Edmund told him. "We've been talking, you know. That's one thing I've learned from you two. Talking is good. That's why I want to talk to you now, Peter. I know what I nearly did shocked you, and it shocked me too. Now I wonder how I could have done it, but the Witch's magic can do things like that to a person. Although," he looked suddenly regretful, "it wasn't completely her magic."

"That's the problem, Ed," Peter said, looking tired. "I was afraid that you actually wanted it. I didn't want to think that way of you, but I couldn't help it."

"I know what you mean," Edmund said, suddenly looking more serious than he had been. "I did want it, but that was because I hadn't actually listened to anything anyone was saying. Not you, not Lucy, not even Aslan. I just heard what the Witch said. There was a point where I really wanted to kill myself. Then, everything started to sink in, and it was just before you came in that I realized that I didn't want that, because it would only mean that the Witch had won, again. It's complicated, I know, Peter."

"I just can't get my head around the fact," Peter said, shaking his head. "You'd been so distant these past few months and so miserable and I couldn't believe it had reached a point where you would actually want to do…_that_. And the worst thing was that I couldn't even prevent it. What if you had gone through with it? I couldn't have stopped you."

"Well, you couldn't have," Edmund agreed, looking thoughtful. "Aslan said he had faith in me, and I suppose that's where we should find our comfort. That is where I should have found it before that point, had I only thought of it."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, eyes wide.

"I mean," Edmund explained, "that we've always tried to have faith in Aslan in Narnia and in this world. Lucy's been the best at it. She always trusts in Him. I think Susan has lost her faith. And you and I…we try our hardest, I suppose, but as these few months have proved we sometimes don't try hard enough. I should have known that if Aslan had faith in me I should have trusted in His faith, because He wouldn't have faith for no reason. And that is what you need to realize as well." He paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "We're never going to know what could have happened, and Aslan Himself has told us that. And you'll drive yourself mad thinking about what I could have done. I would have by now if I kept thinking about it. You just need to trust that Aslan's faith was given with good reason."

Peter thought for a few moments and seemed to be struggling with something. Then he smiled weakly. "I suppose you're right, and I guess this has taught us that we all need to trust in Aslan a bit more."

"And there's no better time to have this realization than Christmas," Edmund added with a wry smile.

Peter suddenly moved forward and enveloped Edmund in a tight hug. Although he didn't usually like such things, Edmund hugged his brother just as tightly. "I needed to trust you as well, I suppose," Peter whispered. "I missed you."

Edmund smiled. "I missed you, too, Peter." They pulled apart and each smiled. Edmund stood up. "It's about time we woke up Lucy."

Peter followed him out of the room, muttering, "I'll be surprised if she's not already downstairs with the presents."

* * *

It was the first time he'd seen Susan in awhile. Edmund immediately hugged her when she entered the house, and she looked just as surprised as anyone else. Peter, however, had a knowing look on his face.

The family was settled in the living room with the Pevensie children sitting on the floor. It had been such a long time since the four had talked together. Susan looked so prim and proper sitting there and the other three were careful not to mention Narnia. Still, there was other good news to mention, and they were given the opportunity when Susan asked, "So, have things gotten better?"

Edmund gave Peter a confused look. "She knows?"

Peter shook his head. "She knows we were having a problem getting something out of you, and that you were unwell."

"She is sitting right here," Susan interrupted, looking amused, "and she still doesn't know if everything has turned out for the better. Has it?"

Edmund smiled. "It has," he said. "It was a tough process, but Peter and Lucy helped me through it. And…" he hesitated, not sure whether to mention it in front of Susan, but he couldn't deny it. He finally settled on saying, in a low voice, "Aslan did as well." Peter and Lucy nodded fervently.

Susan, for once, did not say it was a game, and she did not get angry. Even she seemed to realize that something significant had passed between her siblings and now was not the time to contradict anything. Perhaps it was also the Christmas spirit. She said, "I'm glad everything's turned out all right. I've missed you all terribly."

"You weren't the only one doing the missing," Peter said, grinning slightly. "Lucy, Ed, and I have done our fair share."

"We're really glad you're here now," Lucy added.

"Well, it's not as if I'm ever far away," Susan said, frowning slightly.

Edmund put a hand on her shoulder. "Then let's keep it that way." He looked around. "All of us. Let's stay together, no matter what befalls us."

"I say, that is a splendid idea," Peter seconded. "Let us put our hands in. We'll always be there for each other."

"And if one of us should get lost, the others will help them," Edmund added.

Lucy amended, "And let there be hugs all around." Susan laughed at this, her old laugh, and it made her other siblings smile.

Edmund put his hand on top of Peter's, and Lucy's on his, and Susan's on hers. Edmund whispered, "In Aslan's name, let it be done." A certain feeling of calmness passed over all of them. Edmund suddenly felt more joyful than he had in ages.

Lucy initiated the hug, and soon they were all enveloped in each other's arms, and they did not seem like separate people but like one, single person. Edmund knew, with sudden clarity, that even if the times should prove tough everything would be all right in the end. He trusted himself, he trusted his siblings, and he trusted Aslan.

Edmund never wanted to let go, and it seemed his siblings felt the same way. In that moment they all felt warm and happy and better than they had all felt in a long while. It wasn't Narnia, but it was very close to it. Edmund closed his eyes and drank it all in.

_Yes_, he thought,_ in the end everything will turn out as it should: perfectly._

* * *

**Author's Note: So that is the end. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I hope you all have enjoyed the story...**

**On that note, I'm posting another story, which will be a series of one-shots based on part of this last chapter, with the first taking place a few months after this. It is called 'Finding the Lost' and could also be considered a prequel to 'Welcome'. If you choose to read them, I hope you enjoy them as well. **

**Thank you again! :) **


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